Last week I had the pleasure of doing a #FridayFlash post at Danielle LaPaglia's blog. I enjoyed it so much, I've decided to participate as the mood and ideas strike. But since I'm so focused on my novels right now, I don't want to stray too far from those characters. Therefore, I've decided to use my #FridayFlash time for character studies, delving a little more into their emotions and histories. These will be very inconsistent and only go up when I have the inspiration, but I will always put them up on Thursdays if I have one.
Because I don't want to split my energies (or confuse my new #FridayFlash friends), I'm not separating the YA from the adult stuff. It'll all go here. This week I'm focusing on Elle, one of my teen characters. This would be between books one and two of the series (maybe later, but for now, I'd say there).
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All We Knew
The air hits my back, pushing against me unevenly and I tumble. My lungs burn as I struggle to breathe. There is nothing around me but the darkness, I only know down because I feel the pressure as I fall. My heart thuds in my chest, terror taking hold.
I reach out, grasping for something—anything—to slow my descent. Hopeful fingers brush against flesh that is not mine, and I latch onto you. Without warning, you pull me in and wrap me in your warm embrace, sheltering me from the biting air. With you there is light. Looking into your eyes, I see friendship…love…hope…
In your arms, the fear evaporates; here I am strong. Everything else disappears into the darkness, leaving only us and the falling. Your touch draws out pieces of me better kept hidden, but in your light they are beautiful.
Then the darkness grabs hold of you, wrenching you from my grasp. I scream your name as you fade into the black.
My arms are empty and the air buffets my body once more, all pretense of safety gone.
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All we knew was falling.
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And now I fall alone.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Tuesday Teases: Leslie Soule
We have a very special guest this week. Fellow Decadent Publishing author Leslie Soule is here, but she isn't here to talk about her own upcoming novel, Fallenwood. Instead, she's dedicating this day and much of her time to promoting another work, one that touched her life greatly. I hope you'll join her on this journey into The Temple of the Heart.
A Simple, Sacred Life
I wanted to write about my stepfather's novel The Temple of the Heart, but I didn't know where to begin. So I decided that the best route would be to take on something huge, something we all have to deal with, like the meaning of life. What is all this for? There are many answers out there. Everyone must find their own. I can only say what life means to me. To me, it is a sacred personal spiritual journey. I did not always think so.
The universe must know that I enjoy theatrical drama, because it sent me an epiphany in a most dramatic fashion. I was walking down a street in San Francisco, fooling myself into false contentment with a lifestyle that was ultimately unfulfilling. The sky was cloudy. I had arrived before daybreak and found myself walking down a steep hill. All of a sudden, the sun came up over the clouds and struck me with the force of the divine. It was the sort of thing I thought only happened in novel or movies - or maybe to the really fortunate. It was the first and only epiphany I have ever had in my life.
I have come to realize that the media, and society in general, teaches us some very harmful philosophies. Fashion magazines and television ads show young women in their formative years that they are not good enough. We are taught to measure success by wealth in America, and we neglect our souls, caught up in the struggle as capitalism leeches our humanity. Last night I was in the martial arts studio, reflecting on the psychological challenges of begin a female martial artist, of wondering how people will see me (overly agressive? weird?) because I too have been programmed over the years in ways that I struggle to comprehend. My reawakening of spirit has seemed a long time coming.
Without my stepfather's spiritual guidance from the age of nineteen on, my young adult years were subject to the unholy influences of a very misguided world. Grief made things immeasurably harder as I struggled for identity and inner peace. My kind stepfather was Richard Albert Anderson, a man of many talents. He was - at various times throughout his life - a Navy man, an art teacher, a state worker, and a Buddhist monk. But beyond his personal background, he was a shining, noble soul - one of those brilliant shooting stars that blazed across the sky and faded all too soon.
He wrote The Temple of the Heart, a semi-autobiographical tale about leaving the monastery to pursue life in all its richness and glory. In dealing with this crazy world, reading it reminds me of my spirit, of the strength of noble compassion and trying your best. Reading his work reminds me not to neglect my soul.
My stepfather's manuscript is now available from Decadent Publishing, with a portion of the proceeds being donated to the American Diabetes Association.
When Joseph Banquo saw that girl come through the gate, it was the end of his life in the monastery.
He had seen her years before in a more innocent time and silently had cast his furtive glance. Now she appeared again. Dressed in a sky-blue sari, she stood by the water on a trellised landing, absorbed in her thoughts. Joseph found himself absorbed in her. Smiling coquettishly, she turned to walk away upon catching his stare and it seemed as if Divine Mother Beauty herself had taken human form. If only he could talk to her, but he was too shy, too hung-up with austerity and discipline, rules and monkish restraint.
What delusion is this? It was a burning desire but seemed so much more, and he wouldn’t admit the power of the physical over the spiritual.
She was forbidden, woman oh woman, but he had begun to notice the female form once more, to not turn his eyes away, to see the languid curve of the supple spine. And the outrush of thoughts after two youthful celibate years had caused him to lose his edge—the wisdom and discrimination that protects the monk. In making progress, in overcoming his strong sexuality, he had relaxed, thinking he had won and that was the end because he found that he no longer had the desire to fight.
Buy from Decadent
Buy from Amazon
A Simple, Sacred Life
I wanted to write about my stepfather's novel The Temple of the Heart, but I didn't know where to begin. So I decided that the best route would be to take on something huge, something we all have to deal with, like the meaning of life. What is all this for? There are many answers out there. Everyone must find their own. I can only say what life means to me. To me, it is a sacred personal spiritual journey. I did not always think so.
The universe must know that I enjoy theatrical drama, because it sent me an epiphany in a most dramatic fashion. I was walking down a street in San Francisco, fooling myself into false contentment with a lifestyle that was ultimately unfulfilling. The sky was cloudy. I had arrived before daybreak and found myself walking down a steep hill. All of a sudden, the sun came up over the clouds and struck me with the force of the divine. It was the sort of thing I thought only happened in novel or movies - or maybe to the really fortunate. It was the first and only epiphany I have ever had in my life.
I have come to realize that the media, and society in general, teaches us some very harmful philosophies. Fashion magazines and television ads show young women in their formative years that they are not good enough. We are taught to measure success by wealth in America, and we neglect our souls, caught up in the struggle as capitalism leeches our humanity. Last night I was in the martial arts studio, reflecting on the psychological challenges of begin a female martial artist, of wondering how people will see me (overly agressive? weird?) because I too have been programmed over the years in ways that I struggle to comprehend. My reawakening of spirit has seemed a long time coming.
Without my stepfather's spiritual guidance from the age of nineteen on, my young adult years were subject to the unholy influences of a very misguided world. Grief made things immeasurably harder as I struggled for identity and inner peace. My kind stepfather was Richard Albert Anderson, a man of many talents. He was - at various times throughout his life - a Navy man, an art teacher, a state worker, and a Buddhist monk. But beyond his personal background, he was a shining, noble soul - one of those brilliant shooting stars that blazed across the sky and faded all too soon.
He wrote The Temple of the Heart, a semi-autobiographical tale about leaving the monastery to pursue life in all its richness and glory. In dealing with this crazy world, reading it reminds me of my spirit, of the strength of noble compassion and trying your best. Reading his work reminds me not to neglect my soul.
My stepfather's manuscript is now available from Decadent Publishing, with a portion of the proceeds being donated to the American Diabetes Association.
Excerpt:
When Joseph Banquo saw that girl come through the gate, it was the end of his life in the monastery.
He had seen her years before in a more innocent time and silently had cast his furtive glance. Now she appeared again. Dressed in a sky-blue sari, she stood by the water on a trellised landing, absorbed in her thoughts. Joseph found himself absorbed in her. Smiling coquettishly, she turned to walk away upon catching his stare and it seemed as if Divine Mother Beauty herself had taken human form. If only he could talk to her, but he was too shy, too hung-up with austerity and discipline, rules and monkish restraint.
What delusion is this? It was a burning desire but seemed so much more, and he wouldn’t admit the power of the physical over the spiritual.
She was forbidden, woman oh woman, but he had begun to notice the female form once more, to not turn his eyes away, to see the languid curve of the supple spine. And the outrush of thoughts after two youthful celibate years had caused him to lose his edge—the wisdom and discrimination that protects the monk. In making progress, in overcoming his strong sexuality, he had relaxed, thinking he had won and that was the end because he found that he no longer had the desire to fight.
Buy from Decadent
Buy from Amazon
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Clicking and Cover Art
First, I got the cover art for the Evernight Publishing holiday anthology. It's so pretty....
Okay, now that I've teased you with something that won't be out until December 3, I have a new story available free...right now. As you know, Danielle LaPaglia shared her flash fiction with us on Tuesday (if you haven't read it, check it out), and yesterday I was on her blog. "More Max" has been something I've heard since Of Course I Try came out. "The Cost of Love" is my answer to that plea. WARNING: If you haven't read Of Course I Try, this story is very spoilerish. Proceed with that in mind. (Click here to read "The Cost of Love")
Okay, now that I've teased you with something that won't be out until December 3, I have a new story available free...right now. As you know, Danielle LaPaglia shared her flash fiction with us on Tuesday (if you haven't read it, check it out), and yesterday I was on her blog. "More Max" has been something I've heard since Of Course I Try came out. "The Cost of Love" is my answer to that plea. WARNING: If you haven't read Of Course I Try, this story is very spoilerish. Proceed with that in mind. (Click here to read "The Cost of Love")
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Tuesday Teases: Danielle LaPaglia
You are in for a special treat today, but only if you are 18 or over. Got that? Adults ONLY, so all you dirty-minded teenagers, move along.
Anyway, Danielle LaPaglia, one of my fellow Rebels from writing group is honoring us not only with the pleasure of her beautiful company, but also with an excerpt from her erotic story Should Have Said No. Danielle is a master of flash fiction, specializing in horror, and her series on the seven deadly sins isn't to be missed. She participates in Friday Flash every week, and this Friday is being kind enough to allow me to post a piece of flash that will be recognizable to anyone who has read Of Course I Try (those of you who wanted more Max, he'll be there). Please check out her flash fiction on her blog and follow her on Twitter. She's funny and brilliant, and a little scary sometimes (but only in the best way). Without further ado, here is her excerpt from Should Have Said No.
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It was painfully clear that she wasn’t getting back to sleep so she tossed the blanket aside and went to wash her face. Her long hair pulled back in a low-ponytail, she slipped on her sports bra, shorts and running shoes. The beach was only two blocks down; a morning run was just the thing to clear her mind. She chugged a half a Gatorade from the fridge, stretched and headed out the door, not bothering to leave a note.
The street was quiet, the air cool against her skin, but the run would warm her in no time. A wide sidewalk stretched between multi-million dollar homes and the open beach. She turned South, toward Balboa, and took off. Later in the day this same stretch would be crammed with bicycles and roller-bladers, but for now she was alone. A few surfers waited in the water, but the beach was deserted. Pale light edged brighter between the homes on her left, turning the sky a beautiful pale blue as it pushed back the twilight.
A light sweat broke across her skin, cooled by the breeze coming off the ocean. She ran, not thinking about the man from the bar last night, or her heart-broken friend passed out in her room. She concentrated on the rhythm of each step slapping against the sidewalk, each breath passing in and out. Everything faded, the houses on her left, the ocean on her right; it was her and the pavement and nothing else. Forty minutes later, she was standing beneath a stream of hot water. It poured over her skin the way his gaze had the night before. She closed her eyes and saw him again, standing confident and gorgeous before her. Instead of reaching for the chair, this time he reached for her. His fingertips trailed across her skin.
Mimicking her vision, she smoothed her hand across her body, up her arm, across her shoulder and down to cup one breast. Despite the heat of the shower, her nipple was a hard bud. She rolled it between her finger and thumb, teasing it. Her other hand trailed lower, gliding across her stomach and down between her legs. She parted them slightly, allowing better access for her finger to slip between the soft folds.
Her breath caught. She squeezed her nipple almost to the point of pain, and drove her finger inside, imagining it was him, the beautiful stranger from the bar. She could almost feel his breath on her neck, his cheek against hers. Her movements became more rapid, urgent with the need to climax. It built inside; she slid her finger up, circling her clit again and again. A white heat burst between her legs, flooding through her core and into her limbs. She bit her lip to keep from crying out.
The sensation ebbed; her muscles relaxed and she gave a final stroke, sending a last jolt through her nerves. One hand on the wall, she leaned into the spray. It poured down her scalp, caressing her tingling flesh before disappearing in the drain.
.
.
.
Danielle is an urban fantasy junkie whose favorite fix comes from the likes of Kelley Armstrong, Rachel Caine, and Patricia Briggs. She writes horror of every kind: ghosts, werewolves, vampires, and even monsters of the human variety. She is a member of Kelley Armstrong’s online writing group and participates in #fridayflash on Twitter where she posts weekly flash fiction on her blog. She is completing edits on her first novel, The Watchers, and is hard at work outlining her next urban fantasy project. Danielle is also the last Jedi warrior to study under the nearly extinct Scotnadian Yoda.
Anyway, Danielle LaPaglia, one of my fellow Rebels from writing group is honoring us not only with the pleasure of her beautiful company, but also with an excerpt from her erotic story Should Have Said No. Danielle is a master of flash fiction, specializing in horror, and her series on the seven deadly sins isn't to be missed. She participates in Friday Flash every week, and this Friday is being kind enough to allow me to post a piece of flash that will be recognizable to anyone who has read Of Course I Try (those of you who wanted more Max, he'll be there). Please check out her flash fiction on her blog and follow her on Twitter. She's funny and brilliant, and a little scary sometimes (but only in the best way). Without further ado, here is her excerpt from Should Have Said No.
REMINDER! NO ONE UNDER 18 PERMITTED BEYOND THIS POINT!
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Should Have Said No – Excerpt – by Danielle La Paglia
It was painfully clear that she wasn’t getting back to sleep so she tossed the blanket aside and went to wash her face. Her long hair pulled back in a low-ponytail, she slipped on her sports bra, shorts and running shoes. The beach was only two blocks down; a morning run was just the thing to clear her mind. She chugged a half a Gatorade from the fridge, stretched and headed out the door, not bothering to leave a note.
The street was quiet, the air cool against her skin, but the run would warm her in no time. A wide sidewalk stretched between multi-million dollar homes and the open beach. She turned South, toward Balboa, and took off. Later in the day this same stretch would be crammed with bicycles and roller-bladers, but for now she was alone. A few surfers waited in the water, but the beach was deserted. Pale light edged brighter between the homes on her left, turning the sky a beautiful pale blue as it pushed back the twilight.
A light sweat broke across her skin, cooled by the breeze coming off the ocean. She ran, not thinking about the man from the bar last night, or her heart-broken friend passed out in her room. She concentrated on the rhythm of each step slapping against the sidewalk, each breath passing in and out. Everything faded, the houses on her left, the ocean on her right; it was her and the pavement and nothing else. Forty minutes later, she was standing beneath a stream of hot water. It poured over her skin the way his gaze had the night before. She closed her eyes and saw him again, standing confident and gorgeous before her. Instead of reaching for the chair, this time he reached for her. His fingertips trailed across her skin.
Mimicking her vision, she smoothed her hand across her body, up her arm, across her shoulder and down to cup one breast. Despite the heat of the shower, her nipple was a hard bud. She rolled it between her finger and thumb, teasing it. Her other hand trailed lower, gliding across her stomach and down between her legs. She parted them slightly, allowing better access for her finger to slip between the soft folds.
Her breath caught. She squeezed her nipple almost to the point of pain, and drove her finger inside, imagining it was him, the beautiful stranger from the bar. She could almost feel his breath on her neck, his cheek against hers. Her movements became more rapid, urgent with the need to climax. It built inside; she slid her finger up, circling her clit again and again. A white heat burst between her legs, flooding through her core and into her limbs. She bit her lip to keep from crying out.
The sensation ebbed; her muscles relaxed and she gave a final stroke, sending a last jolt through her nerves. One hand on the wall, she leaned into the spray. It poured down her scalp, caressing her tingling flesh before disappearing in the drain.
.
.
.
Danielle is an urban fantasy junkie whose favorite fix comes from the likes of Kelley Armstrong, Rachel Caine, and Patricia Briggs. She writes horror of every kind: ghosts, werewolves, vampires, and even monsters of the human variety. She is a member of Kelley Armstrong’s online writing group and participates in #fridayflash on Twitter where she posts weekly flash fiction on her blog. She is completing edits on her first novel, The Watchers, and is hard at work outlining her next urban fantasy project. Danielle is also the last Jedi warrior to study under the nearly extinct Scotnadian Yoda.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Announcement Time! (sort of)
As promised, I have an announcement, but because of circumstances outside my control (and lousy planning on my part), I don't get to do it in my normal fashion. Anyway...
Sometime in September, I saw a call for an anthology with a new digital publisher. I was working on The Ghost of Vampire Present at the time and working on the idea for my NaNo project, but I looked at my calendar and wondered if I didn't have time to put something together for this one too. The people who have been following my craziness on twitter or facebook know I stayed busy right up until NaNo started on November 1. I literally took Halloween off, finishing my outline the night before.
But I didn't really take Halloween off. You see, in those couple weeks between finishing The Ghost of Vampire Present and starting on Kiss of Death for NaNo, I penned and submitted a little story called Yes, Alana, There Is a Santa Claus. I received my first round of edits from Evernight Publishing on Halloween and made sure I got them in before NaNo actually started at midnight. The story will be part of their upcoming erotica/erotic romance anthology 'Twas a Dark and Delicious Christmas.
The only sad part is I don't have a cover or release date to share yet. Trust me, when I do I'll be sure to post. Which leads me to announcement number two...
I've finally realized that trying to blog three times a week per blog is killing me. Even with throwing in "easy" blogs, I'm just stretching myself too thin and it's making me enjoy it less. So, Thirsty Thursdays are gone and won't be replaced. My "official" blog days here will be Tuesdays and Saturdays, saving the occasional Thursday for when I have announcements that won't fit (due to guests or planned posts) on the other days. I hope you weren't just here for the drink recipes and will come back for whatever I give you the other days.
And I hope you'll keep an eye out for 'Twas a Dark and Delicious Christmas!
Sometime in September, I saw a call for an anthology with a new digital publisher. I was working on The Ghost of Vampire Present at the time and working on the idea for my NaNo project, but I looked at my calendar and wondered if I didn't have time to put something together for this one too. The people who have been following my craziness on twitter or facebook know I stayed busy right up until NaNo started on November 1. I literally took Halloween off, finishing my outline the night before.
But I didn't really take Halloween off. You see, in those couple weeks between finishing The Ghost of Vampire Present and starting on Kiss of Death for NaNo, I penned and submitted a little story called Yes, Alana, There Is a Santa Claus. I received my first round of edits from Evernight Publishing on Halloween and made sure I got them in before NaNo actually started at midnight. The story will be part of their upcoming erotica/erotic romance anthology 'Twas a Dark and Delicious Christmas.
The only sad part is I don't have a cover or release date to share yet. Trust me, when I do I'll be sure to post. Which leads me to announcement number two...
I've finally realized that trying to blog three times a week per blog is killing me. Even with throwing in "easy" blogs, I'm just stretching myself too thin and it's making me enjoy it less. So, Thirsty Thursdays are gone and won't be replaced. My "official" blog days here will be Tuesdays and Saturdays, saving the occasional Thursday for when I have announcements that won't fit (due to guests or planned posts) on the other days. I hope you weren't just here for the drink recipes and will come back for whatever I give you the other days.
And I hope you'll keep an eye out for 'Twas a Dark and Delicious Christmas!
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Thirsty Thursday: Butt Plug
For the month of November, I'm doing drinks to celebrate NaNoWriMo. That means alcohol AND caffeine--the best of both worlds. So, don't let the names confuse you, these are all designed to keep you happy and awake while completing your 50k.
Butt Plug
6 oz. Red Bull (I used diet, just because)
1/2 oz. vodka
1/2 oz. blue curacao
Fill an old-fashioned glass 1/2 way with Red Bull. Separately, fill a shot glass 1/2 with vodka, 1/2 with blue curacao. Drop shot glass in the other glass and shoot.
Okay, I'm bad about reading directions. I just mixed everything in a glass and added ice.
Review:
Me: First it is a really pretty emerald green color, and I am a fan of pretty drinks. What's more is this isn't half bad. It has a very tart fruity taste (mind you I've never had Red Bull before, so maybe that's all I'm tasting). I could definitely sit back and enjoy this sometime when I need to stay awake (hoping it helps for that at least). 8/10
Hubs: Tastes kind of like the off-minty medicine the doctor used to give you as a kid with zero kick. It'd be better if it had more alcohol. 6/10
Butt Plug
6 oz. Red Bull (I used diet, just because)
1/2 oz. vodka
1/2 oz. blue curacao
Fill an old-fashioned glass 1/2 way with Red Bull. Separately, fill a shot glass 1/2 with vodka, 1/2 with blue curacao. Drop shot glass in the other glass and shoot.
Okay, I'm bad about reading directions. I just mixed everything in a glass and added ice.
Review:
Me: First it is a really pretty emerald green color, and I am a fan of pretty drinks. What's more is this isn't half bad. It has a very tart fruity taste (mind you I've never had Red Bull before, so maybe that's all I'm tasting). I could definitely sit back and enjoy this sometime when I need to stay awake (hoping it helps for that at least). 8/10
Hubs: Tastes kind of like the off-minty medicine the doctor used to give you as a kid with zero kick. It'd be better if it had more alcohol. 6/10
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Tuesday Teases with Wicked Little Pixie
I have a lot of love for book bloggers—like mad love. You see, I love to read but at the best of times the only way I could keep up with people like them would be to give up the rest of my life (no family, no writing, no sleep…fortunately I can eat and read at the same time). So I have massive respect for people who take the time to read and let people know what they did and didn't like about a book.Over the past few months, I've gotten to know some of these wonderful people via the magic of Twitter, and I'm luck enough to have one of my favorites here today. I hope everyone will make Natasha, aka Wicked Little Pixie, feel welcome. If you don't, I give her free rein to beat you with her snark-stick.
Hey Nat! Welcome to Ramblings and Romance. I'm pretty sure anyone reading knows what you do, but could you give us some rough estimates of how much you read in a given month? (include a comment on DNFs if you are so inclined)
This is the first year I’ve actually kept track of how much I read, as of almost the end of October I’ve read 155 books. (http://wickedlilpixie.com/2010-reading-challenge/ ) I read fast if the book draws me in, so some months I read a lot faster and some months are slower. That is not including the DNF’s I’ve “read” this year. Let me tell you, DNF’s are really hard for me. I feel guilty when I can’t finish a book believe it or not. I know how much work goes into writing a book, but I can’t help personal preference.
God I need a life.
Oh my God, that number is even bigger than I would have imagined, and you do interviews too. Don't you have a day job? How do you find time for it all?
Interviews take a lot more time in my case then it takes to write a review. I think it’s a must to research the author before the interview, god knows I wouldn’t want to answer the same questions 100 times. I try to make each interview unique for the author and if I “know” the author, I can usually get away with some snark back and forth which I love. Those really have been my favorite interviews, where I can get a rapport with an author & it’s not just standard or strained.
As for time, I got laid off months back, so this has been a way to keep my brain going while I decide where I want to go next career wise. I always thought I was going to end up in Forensics, after 3 years of college my brain said no thanks & I drifted for awhile in a few different careers. Now I finally know what I want to do with my life. *queue choir music singing Hallelujah*
Er...sorry about the lay off but Woohoo for knowing what you want to do with your life. So does that mean I shouldn't pester you about reviewing everything I have coming out over the next few months?
Not unless you want me to snark you in public ;) Lay off lady. LAY OFF!
Speaking of authors (because this question isn't about giving me ways to annoy you…nope, not at all), what are some things authors do that really irritate you as a reviewer?
I do have a few requirements before I even agree. First, my biggest pet peeve is when an author sends me a blind email without asking if I’d like to review the book. You’d be surprised how many times I get an email that’s an obvious mass email & they don’t register me as a person, more like a machine. Drives me insane, please just say Hello my name is, it takes two seconds to look on my site and find my name!
My other issue is when an author goes to my site, gets my email address, but doesn’t read what books I don’t review. Sorry, Historical Erotica just isn’t for me. And if you want the book reviewed in a certain period of time, say so when I ask and not constantly send me emails to see if I’ve read it yet! UGH.
Another thing that has been bothering me lately is the lack of line between personal life & author on Twitter. I’ve noticed some authors think its okay to rant & go uber personal all over social media. Some things I just don’t want to know, especially sexual things *shudder* Okay, I just scared myself all over again. I’ve seen way too much on Twitter I tell you, WAY TOO MUCH! My virginal eyes, they burn.
Okay, okay, no more talk of what melts in your mouth and not in your hands then. Anyway...With as busy as you are, it's got to be overwhelming sometimes. What can authors do to make it easier on you?
Don’t be demanding, it takes time for us bloggers to read a book & review it. We all have lives outside of blogging, family, friends, careers, health concerns, family concerns, bills, just real life issues that sometimes take up time. Most of us don’t make a dime doing this & while “free” books are great, a lot of time & effort is needed to do a review.
So patience is needed, but also be friendly! I love when I get an email from an author who I’ve never spoken to who says thank you for reviewing their book; it makes me feel like I am doing something other then talking to myself.
And god forbid, if I never reply to an email or my brain dumps & I forget to review your book…an email saying “hey, did you forget about me?” is fine, just don’t yell at me please. My TBR pile is trying to kill me in my sleep, while my email is trying to blind me during the day. I’m human, I forget sometimes.
Make a wish for the next book to come through your door. What would it be like?
Right now I am obsessed with Vicki Pettersson’s Zodiac Series. If someone’s written something similar, I’d cry tears of joy. I’m really on a darker UF kick, but I am always up for something snarky that makes me laugh.
Believe me, if I had one, I'd send it your way. Well, no I guess I wouldn't because you just told me not to. *sigh* There's just no pleasing you, is there?
.Speed Round (Because I couldn’t let you get away without doing this. If you could only pick one of the following, which would it be?)
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Booze or Food? Food (or coffee..mmm coffee)
Cursing or Reading? Reading whilst cursing?
Sex or Violence? Sex or I’d become violent.
Snark or Sleep? I’ve been told I snark in my sleep.
Spaz or Me? (Wait! No. Don't answer that one :P) A Spaz (Pam) & Seleste sandwich?
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Is there anything else you'd like to tell my readers?
Umm. Love, peace & hair grease? Sorry, I’m having a weird Soul Train remixed in Pixie’s head moment. My brain is a weird place.
Thank you so much for stopping by, and I promise next time I'm in Toronto, you are tops on my list of people to visit (and I will keep stalking you on Twitter in the meantime) :)
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For those of you who want to follow Natasha, and you know you do, she can be found at the Wicked Little Pixie blog, on Facebook, and Twitter. She's awesomely snarktastic and a whole lot of fun to be around.
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