Five Bucks of GREATNESS

We must snootboop every book.

So last Friday Mel Sterling reminded me about a book sale I’d tentatively said might be interesting. She was already on her way, and I’d just gotten home from an emergency trip to see a store about a hoodie. (Don’t ask.) I was THISCLOSE to not going, but I figured, well, anytime I see my writing partner is a good time. So I buckled into the car and went.

And OH MY WORD IT WAS LIKE HEAVEN. $5 for a BOX full of research goodness!

mmmmm crunchy.

Seriously. I couldn’t have found more weird niche stuff for my interests if I’d tried.

And to think I almost didn’t go. Let that be a lesson to me. The answer to a book sale is always, always yes.

Not New, But Still Shiny

Steelflower

GUESS WHAT.

NO, COME ON. GUESS.

OKAY FINE I’LL TELL YOU.

That’s right. Since the previous publisher went out of business, I’m putting out Steelflower on my own. Currently, you can buy the ebook directly; it will be in KU during the month of June, and the new paperback should be out by the end of June as well.

Yes, I’m trying to get back to work on Book 2. Trying. We’ll see what happens.

There now, aren’t you glad I told you?

Procrastination Station

Well hello, my darlings. How is your Wednesday? My retelling of Beauty & the Beast is still $2.99 over on Kindle, until May 12; on June 1, it’ll be pulled from KU and put into wider distribution again. Also, stay tuned for a Love, Bite announcement next week–that’s the werewolf smut, for those of you keeping track.

The Anna Beguine books are fun. I’m enjoying just letting my hair down and writing whatever pleases me. It’s very liberating, to write under a different name. There’s not the pressure I’ve been feeling lately. Now if I can just get the metaslider on the homepage to perform like a carousel, I’d be all-bloody-set. But that’s a battle for a different day, now that I’ve got the first Angelov Wolves book out of the way.

Today was supposed to be 50F and rainy, but the big yellow glaring thing in the sky is back. Miss B is recovering from our run yesterday, and I probably should too. I kind of want to go for a bike ride, though. Just to move, to keep the blood flowing. Or maybe I’m using exercise to procrastinate. (It’s only a borderline healthy habit, really.) Considering that tomorrow is my long run for the week, maybe I should just stick to yoga today.

Yeah, right.

On the bright side, sunshine and warmth mean I can leave my office window open a bit without freezing to death. That will help dispel some of the fug from whatever Odd Trundles managed to stuff into his digestive system last night in the backyard. I won’t need a gas mask, just eyedrops.

It’s the little victories, I guess.

Well, I could practice some piano, go on a walk, read another book on Stalingrad, pull some stinking geranium

…but that’s procrastination, too.

*puts on goggles*

NO SLEEP ‘TIL REVISION. OVER AND OUT.

Good Morning Monday

It’s Monday. *blinks, blearily* Yesterday significant wordcount on Roadtrip Z fell out of my head, and I got the week’s Patreon offerings prepped and scheduled. So there was that, even if some of the housework didn’t get done. (Hint: I didn’t hoover. I somewhat hate hoovering. I may also have skipped cleaning the espresso machine, which I do not hate but which can be done today.)

So this week is for Afterwar revisions and prepping Love, Bite for release. It will be out earlier than the end of next month, I just put that date on it to give me time to get all ducks in a row. I should do some blurbage for it, too. I might as well, though I intended not to go back to it until the 10th. Needs must when the devil drives, et cetera, et cetera.

I’m not feeling like I’m quite ready to go back to Afterwar. It’s the biggest book I’ve attempted so far, and it makes me cry more than I want to admit. Parts of it hurt to write. Not just the usual “oh, this is awful” or “God, these poor people” but actual physical pain. I’m hoping that translates out into truth-on-the-page, and isn’t just my brain playing chemical imbalance tricks on me. I’ll attempt to get myself into a revision mainframe today, and we’ll see what happens.

…I had plenty of other things to put in this post, but I just spent a few minutes sitting and staring while everything I have to do today whirled inside my head like a badly unbalanced washing machine. Time to Make A List, or nothing will get done.

Over and out.

Oh, Furet

A surprisingly crunchy book, and yet.

Moreover, a time will come when the political beliefs that have sustained the disputes within our societies over the last two centuries will seem as surprising to men as the inexhaustible variety and violence of the religious conflicts in Europe between the fifteenth and the seventeenth century seem to us. –Francois Furet, Interpreting the French Revolution

My thought upon reading this: Oh, Francois, honey, the women won’t be surprised. Not one bit.

Stuff and Things


I put the werewolf smut up for pre-order. The blurb and the cover might change, and it will by all indications be out much earlier than the preorder date, but at least it’s there. I had fun writing it. Also, Rose & Thunder is a Kindle Countdown Deal until the 12th, if you’re into that. After that, I’ll be taking the book off KU and putting it back into wide distribution, so get it while it’s hot.

The thunderstorms we were promised didn’t show up until midnight. I woke to find a shaking, lip-licking, whining Miss B pressing as close to me as she could get while the heavenly cannons flashed and roared. Before you ask, no, we don’t use a ThunderShirt for her. She hates that thing more than she hates the loud noises I thought to save her from. The only thing that works for her is anti-anxiety meds and plenty of cuddles. Strangely, though she hates the compression of the shirt, she likes getting under the covers with me, with only her nose poking out. She won’t listen when I tell her they’re basically the same thing. *eyeroll* I guess it was the fact that I’d just washed my sheets that made it so attractive.

Odd Trundles, of course, spent the entire storm snoring in his crate, except for when one strike less than a mile away rattled the windows. He roused, sleepily barked at “what the fuck are you doing, it’s nap time” at the world, and went back to snore-whistling.

When the entire thing receded, it took a while to get Miss B back to calm, and she’s still nervy and needy this morning. Poor thing. It’s almost as bad as fireworks season. I hear that the new laws go into effect this year–no fireworks for the 4th/New Year’s inside the city limits, and it’s about goddamn time. It’s so bad for the pets. Go out somewhere else to blow up bits of your native soil in celebration, or, here’s a thought: just don’t. Ugh.

Anyway, it’s a Friday. I did a Friday photo yesterday, probably because the heat had addled my brain somewhat. Since I did my long run yesterday too (look, it was scheduled, I figured I’d get it out of the way, it was a bad choice but I don’t regret it) I’ll probably go for a nice easy bike ride today, just to wear me out so I can sleep through whatever happens tonight. There are no more storms in the forecast, unless one counts emotional ones.

So today I begin revisions on Afterwar, bite my nails over the upcoming Cormorant Run release, achieve some steady wordcount in Roadtrip Z, try to exhaust myself for sleeping tonight, and smile at the rain.

Because yes, it’s raining. 50F and raining, again, a nice break from two 80F days. I never sleep well when it’s that warm, anyway. The world is back on its regular track, and I’m happy enough. If I can just get Miss B all-the-way soothed, I’ll count today a win.

Old Man in the Ground

Eighty degrees yesterday, and so much humidity it felt like swimming. After all the rain the past few weeks, the sun and warmth means every blessed plant is exploding.

The Prince and I took Miss B on a ramble after dinner last night. (I thought I was going alone, but the Prince wouldn’t hear of it, because he had to tell me all about gym class and something called Dungeon Defenders.) This was one of the plants I couldn’t identify, but the trusty internet sprang into action when I posted it. It’s marah, also known as old-man-in-the-ground because its, uh, tubers get big. Really big. *snork*

Anyway, I’ll be going back and checking on it, and if it develops gourds I’ll be beside myself with glee. We also saw stinging nettles, flowering dogwoods, and something that might be a ranunculus, but I’ll have to wait for its blooming to make sure. It was too hot for a truly long ramble; we came home, Miss B drank water and lay on the tile to cool off, and the Prince gave me a hug before dancing off to take his shower.

Who knew a fourteen-year-old boy would enjoy botany nerding so much?