Deeper Levels

I just had to laugh. Dear gods, Astrology App, do you think I do anything else?

I have to say, the notifications from this particular app have made me break down laughing on a regular basis. It’s been sorely needed merriment, indeed.

Here’s to having a good weekend, my friends–and to giving as much access as you prefer, ever and always.

Monster Wish-Fulfillment Hooky

So Incorruptible is out, and I’m aching to get back into the swing of things after the usual release day nerves. You’d think after however-many books out, I’d be almost blasé about a release day. But that’s not what happens. I still get just as nervous-anxious-upset, each damn time.

It’s like the speed of light, I should just take it as a constant and arrange for it, then move on.

I woke up this morning wanting to write a Dracula reboot with reincarnation and angsty blood-drinking, not to mention the monster getting the girl. Which is strange, because one of my biggest turnoffs in a narrative is the creator not being willing to hurt their monster. Maybe it’s a function of reading Caroline Kepnes’s You and Providence in the same weekend; I got halfway through Hidden Bodies and decided that the Very Angry White Guy Joe Goldberg was going to get everything he wanted and I didn’t need to be around for that. You was pretty amazing, but Providence left me wanting something quite different. I’ll probably return to Hidden Bodies later, just because I’m a completionist and paging to the end to see what happens doesn’t quite satisfy, especially when I’m reading critically.

Having a monster without consequences just isn’t my jam. There’s nothing wrong with wish-fulfillment fic, far from. I just usually want something different and I’m a little bemused at my sudden urge to write it myself. I suppose one could do wish fulfillment and consequences, that would be a worthy hat trick.

Anyway, I’m just noodling. I have HOOD‘s Season Two to work on, and Memory Game, which I think will be the next project-of-my-heart finished. Then I can make decisions about Dracula reboots. I have all the major parts for the last bouncing around inside my skull; I should probably just get them into a Scrivener doc so they’ll stop dancing around and making noise…

…stop laughing, dammit, I swear I’m not going to work on it, I’m just gonna write a few things down.

STOP LAUGHING.

Okay, yes, I give up, if you’re thinking I’m probably going to play hooky and write at least the first few scenes of a Dracula reboot wish-fulfillment thing today, you’re right. Like REO Speedwagon, I can’t fight this feeling anymore.

Goddamn Muse. I suppose I’d best get started so I have some time left over for actual work today, too.

Over and out.

RELEASE DAY: Incorruptible

Are you excited, dear Readers? Heaven and hell both know I am. Today is the day Incorruptible is free in the wild!


Falling was only the beginning…

Jenna Delacroix is determined to keep her life as simple as possible. Maybe if she tries hard enough to be normal the nightmares and strange occurrences plaguing her all her life will finally recede. But then the monsters arrive—and with them, the man who says he’s her protector.

Lonely and disciplined, Michael Gabon is just a grunt in the Legion’s endless war, but now he’s stumbled across something special—a living, breathing Incorruptible, the first one he’s seen in more decades than he can count. She’s also being hunted. And now, so is he.

On the run without backup, the diaboli haunting their trail, their only hope is working together. Even that might not be enough, because the unclean seem to know more than they should. Whether it’s treachery or bad luck doesn’t matter to Michael. The only thing he cares about is seeing his Incorruptible safe…

…no matter who–or what–he has to kill.

AVAILABLE DIRECT (.EPUB AND KINDLE VERSIONS), THROUGH KOBO, THROUGH AMAZON, OR THROUGH BARNES & NOBLE. PRINT EDITION AVAILABLE.
YOU CAN ALSO DOWNLOAD AND READ THE FIRST SIX CHAPTERS FOR FREE.

Isn’t it lovely? The cover is by the glorious Indigo Chick Designs; Skyla does such beautiful work.

It’s rather a sweet romance, though with plenty of gore–this is, after all, me. I can’t wait to hear what you think of it. And now I’m going to go soak my head in a bucket, because release-day nerves are shaking me like a rat in a terrier’s teeth.

Enjoy!

Soundtrack Monday: Out of My Mind

Selene

One of the things about Selene is that we never see inside Nikolai. We don’t see how similar to Selene he really was, as a paranormal1 trapped by Grigori. In his mind, he’s much better than Grigori ever could be, because he allows Selene a few choices.

You become what you despise, you become the mask you wear, so be careful of both.

Anyway, if Selene was ever a movie, Duran Duran’s Out of My Mind would be playing at the end–Nikolai waking alone, Selene embarking upon her immortality, free at last. I did plan on writing Selene’s adventures as a standalone, but piracy of the book put paid to that. I simply couldn’t afford to.

How could you dare to become so real, Not just a ghost to me? That’s Nikolai, baffled by how Selene manages to slip through all his defenses and strike at the only tender, mortal part he has left. I often wondered when Selene would realize he let her go, once Grigori was gone, because of the old adage about when you love someone.

I played this track over and over while writing the last chapter of Selene, and had to listen to it obsessively while writing Just Ask.2 If I do end up writing the Hell Wars with little Lia Spocarelli, we’ll get to glimpse this pair again.

In the meantime, enjoy the music.

Time It Right

I’ve only twenty minutes before I have to shove the icepack back into the freezer and hop in the shower. I don’t care if my plantar fascia hurts, I have to run. I have been going mad with the enforced rest, and tomorrow is a release day.

That’s right, tomorrow, Incorruptible is released to the world for your delectation at midnight tonight. Remember, you can download the first six chapters here for free.

I already have release day nerves, so I’ve been pushing myself pretty hard this morning. If I can get tired enough I might even be able to sleep tonight. I finished the zero of Damage late last week. It’s only around 46k, but there’s plenty of room for expansion if it gets sold as a category.

I’m trying to work out what comes next. Orphaned and out of contract is never a fun place to be as an author, especially in this economy. It’s one of those days I think I should pack it all in, become a plumber or something, and only write for home consumption, so to speak.

Don’t despair, dear Readers. The feeling is normal, I get it right before every release day. You’d think it would get easier to deal with, but each time it wears right through the carpet and cuts a groove in my mental floor.

In any case, I have Hell’s Acre, Memory Game, and HOOD‘s Season Two open in Scrivener. The last needs a stiff reread to get back into the groove, and if I push I might get a zero out in the next month. That would be nice; I’ll probably work on Memory Game next since I’m still in a suspense/thriller mood.

But in the meantime, I’m going to finish icing my heel and stagger for the shower. Getting back to work after finishing a zero is always an exercise in stubbornness, like hopping in to jump double-dutch. I never quite got the hang of that, but it didn’t stop me from trying. One day I’ll time it right.

Over and out.

Deepest Violet

I wouldn’t have morning glories in my yard (mostly because I spent too long with toddlers roaming around) but fortunately, some of my neighbors do, and I get to admire them. Especially when the color is so achingly vibrant.

Sometimes the smallest beautiful thing can save an entire day, week, month, year. Never underestimate the tiny beauties. They can even save a life.

Stubbornness and Experience

Just a short note today, since I am so close to the end of Damage I can almost taste a few days off. Usually I have a long doldrums in the center third to four-fifth of a book before lunging to the end; this particular story began gathering steam at the halfway point and is full speed, arm the torpedoes, pass the butter and devil take the hindmost, amen.

Which also means I’ve had the usual “this book is shit, I am shit, and everyone who depends on me will starve to death because of it” in fast-forward, compressed into a smaller length of time but not at all ameliorated. Instead of the usual endurance match it’s a battering on the ropes.

Fortunately, I’ve stubbornness and experience on my side. And icepacks for my damn heel; I’m going to have to get some dixie cups and ice my forearms after this as well. Taking care of one’s hands is de rigeur for a scribe, and my fingers are a little tired. Normally I break in the middle of the day, shifting between two projects; spending all my time focused with white-hot intensity on one is giving me aches I could do without.

I might be pushing so hard on this book because I can’t run for a short while–plantar fasciitis is a bitch–and I need something to keep my brain from eating itself. Yoga sadly doesn’t cut it.

So it’s ice, and ibuprofen, and swearing under my breath every time I have to get said icepack out. This draft is extremely lean; that’s all right, I think it’s more a category romance than anything and the leanness of the draft will give me plenty of room to add the necessary touches and still be under wordcount limit.

Of course, if the category publishers don’t get off their rear ends and move in a reasonable amount of time, it will no doubt grow to a different proportion and be brought out through my own inimitable services. Either way a reader wins. I’m getting less and less willing to wait for trad publishers to, in my grandfather’s pungent phrase, shit or get off the pot.

Also, it’s subscription day, and I should really get the monthly newsletter out. If I get the denouement done this morning, that will be a lazy afternoon’s work.

Meanwhile there’s coffee to suck down, ice to put under my heel until it stings and grows numb, the dogs to walk while I wince and step carefully. The rain has retreated for now; the sunshine is unpleasant but at least it’s not gasping-hot anymore. Summer’s spine has broken and autumn has ascended the throne.

It’s got to be enough.