Thursday, November 5, 2015

REVIEW: Game On by Olley White

I found this book for free on Amazon and, as much as my mother told me not to judge a book by its cover, I totally did.

But it’s a damn nice cover.

The Good:
This is a cute story. Like, really, really cute. Also very British, which is understandable… since it was written by a British author and set in the UK. It doesn’t bother me at all, but fair warning for anyone who picks it up: if you’re not familiar with British slang and colloquialisms, you may want to brush up on them before you crack this book open. Or have Google at the ready.

The premise is also very appealing to my inner geek. Two people meet playing an MMO, hit it off, and eventually agree to meet in real life. I love that. More nerd love is always a good thing, in my opinion. I also enjoyed being surprised. See, when they were online, Max thought St3ff was short for Stephanie… not Stefan. That wasn’t a shock. The shock was the outcome. You see, I figured that it would turn out, since that’s sort of the status quo. But I also figured I would hate it. Straight guy and gay guy get together? Highly unlikely. But it worked out. Somehow, the author made it work in such a way that I actually believed it. It required Max to be very open to his own sexuality, but that worked out exceptionally well. The part I thought would be the weakest ended up actually being good.

As for the story, it held together from beginning to end. It was all very sweet, not much drama. Not exactly my cup of tea, but even I enjoy something light and sweet from time to time. Game On definitely fills that place in my library. Like I said above, it’s cute, and there’s nothing wrong with cute.

The Bad:
I don’t have a ton of complaints, but I have some. As I said above, it wasn’t very dramatic. That led to the occasional goofy moment that ruined the experience a bit for me. There was a dance scene at the end, a roller disco, and some moments inside the MMO. They weren’t a major issue, just not my preference. I like darkness with my love stories. Always have.

I also had issues keeping the characters straight in my head. I found them very similar to each other, so when they were talking, I found myself having to go back a few times to figure out who was saying what. It’s an issue I’ve seen a lot in M/M romance. A lot of times, the differences between the two heroes are physical only. It makes for attractive heroes, but it becomes confusing quickly. That was the case here. There were differences between them, but only very slight differences.

The other little complaint I have was the final love scene. It was a paragraph. I honestly didn’t see the point in putting it in at all. The book could have been a romance sans sex, and that likely would have improved the quality of it, in my opinion.

The Ugly:
This is a problem that might not bother everyone, but it was very large for me: proofreading. This book badly needed a proofreader to go through it. Commas were used in place of periods, words were misspelled, and the grammar was just a big issue for me. Not so big as to ruin the enjoyment of the book, but noticeable to me. Noticeable enough that I was pulled out several times. There were several sentences where the grammar changed the meaning, which is a problem even if you aren’t anal-retentive about spelling and grammar like I am. But the book managed to be cute enough to overcome those issues, which is saying a lot for me.

All in all, Game On is a really sweet little love story. Especially for free, I’d give it a chance.

Sunday, November 1, 2015

Guest Post: Hidden Shifter by Abraham Steele

Abraham Steele's new book Hidden Shifter is out! The seventh instalment in the Fated Date Agency series is a standalone gay paranormal romance with all the angst, adventure, and steamy action you could ask for. Read on for an excerpt and an exclusive giveaway from Abraham!

Hidden Shifter excerpt:

“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”

I’d already been sitting on the edge of my leather couch waiting to hear who my fated mate was. Now I pressed the phone to my ear as if it would make an explanation come faster. “Bad news?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hillwell,” Praya said again. “Your fated mate is… dead.”

The phone fell out of my suddenly-limp hand. I slumped against the couch, unable to move. It sounded like the woman was still talking, but I didn’t have the strength to pick the phone up and hear what she was saying. She’d already told me everything I needed to know.

My fated mate was dead.

For a moment, I just let my mind wrap around the facts. My fated mate was gone before I’d even had a chance to meet him. I’d never known him – and now I would never know him. Still struggling to breathe, I pushed myself to wrap my fingers around the handset.

“Mr. Hillwell?” the matchmaker asked. “Are you still there?”

Was I? It was a good question. “I’m here,” I finally said. “There… there must be some mistake. My mate can’t be dead.”

“I know this must be shocking for you,” she said. “I can call back later and give you your mate’s information, if you’d like. I think you could still make it to the funeral.”

A fist seemed to squeeze my heart. Going to my fated mate’s funeral would be bad enough if I’d actually lived with the man. To go without having known him felt even worse. I didn’t know if I could take it.

This definitely was a shock, and I was about to ask Praya to call me back as she’d suggested. Then it hit me. If I could still make it to the funeral…

“When did he die?” I asked.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Hillwell,” she said quietly. “He died yesterday.”

A strangled sob came out of my lips. If I’d just written to the agency earlier, I would have met my mate. It had been open for years now. Practically every alpha and omega I knew had been written in, been matched, and fallen in love. Shifters across the country had already found happiness.

But me? No, I was always too busy. My work was more important than finding the man of my dreams. The money was stacking up in my bank account, and there was no time to feel lonely. When I did think about the coldness of my bed at night, I just put off writing to the agency. There was always more time.

That time had run out.

Somehow I managed to speak. “How did it happen?”

“He was in a car accident,” Praya said.

She sounded sympathetic. I tried to picture her – she sounded middle-aged, but what did she look like? Was she behind a desk? In a white lab coat? Her hands would definitely be folded, and her lips would be pursed. It probably wasn’t every day that she had to deliver this kind of news. Well, it wasn’t as if it mattered.

“You can look up the details, if you’d like,” she said. “His name was Idris Greene.”

The name alone sent a rush through me. Idris, Idris… They said names could influence your personality, and in this case I thought it was true. Knowing his name brought me a tiny bit closer to him. I could almost feel the man I’d been meant to spend my life with.

“I’ll… I’ll look him up,” I murmured. “Thank you.”

I walked with heavy steps through the halls of the home I’d made for myself. The elaborate furnishings and expensive tapestries seemed to mock me. The two men with arms intertwined in a five-thousand-dollar painting shook their heads. I had bought myself a yacht – a yacht! – yet I hadn’t found time to write to the agency. What was all of this worth if I had no mate?

Praya should have matched me earlier. She should have reached out to all the unmatched shifters. There were so few of us left at this point – I was sure she could have done it easily. If she’d put in some effort, done her job, I would have had some time with my mate. Maybe he wouldn’t have died if he’d been here with me.

How could fate have done this to me? Why give me a mate just to take him away? Stopping short in the middle of the hallway, I clenched my fists and screamed up at the sky. My cri de coeur was raw, primal – a howl of suffering.

When I could scream no more, I dropped my hands to my sides. Doing it had given me a kind of relief, and I saw my situation with new clarity. I had done this to myself. I couldn’t deny that. Praya had operated her business as expected. The stars had given me the same treatment as everyone else. It was me who had held off on writing to the agency.

I took in harsh breaths, knowing that I could only blame myself. Why had I waited so long for the right moment? When was the right moment supposed to be? I’d finally done it now that I was closing in on thirty. I’d done it calmly, as if writing to the agency was no different from ordering take-out. I’d only been mildly curious about what I was going to get. If anything, I’d worried slightly about how finding my mate would screw up my current life. I had it pretty good – or I’d always thought I did.

What good were all my stock trades now? They’d seemed so urgent before, and yet I’d never thought the few extra dollars in my bank account from each time I’d said “later.” Love had been waiting for me, and I had shoved it aside...


For your chance to win your choice of the first six books in the Fated Date Agency series, just comment with the title of the book you would want to read.

Friday, October 30, 2015

Eight Dudes for Your Friday!

Hello hello, darlings! In order to whet your whistles for Silverfall, I thought I'd offer up a little... let's call it inspiration. Or we can be frank and call it a bunch of dudes I want to bang. But I suppose I'd be wiling to share with you...

(I don't have copyright on any of these images. If there's any issue with a copyright holder, I'll gladly take them down.)

Those eyes, though...

I think his body is ready.

I'd very happily lick that tattoo back.

Sand in a few crevices would be more than worth a roll on the beach with him

I find long hair can get in the way, but I'd make an exception for him.

Quick bathroom selfie?


I do love a man who reads...

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

M/M Erotic Romance: Silverfall

It's finally here! A new book for you, my darlings: Silverfall!

Cover Art by Fiona Jayde

I'm particularly fond of this book. It's got some action, some magic, a lot of sex, and a lot of sarcastic humor, all packed into a few hours' reading. If that sounds like your kind of thing, click HERE to snag a copy for ten percent off at Loose Id. Or, give it a couple days and it should be at your preferred ebook retailer :) I'll make sure to disperse links when I get those.

Anthony Gates has been alone since he broke up with his boyfriend two years ago, and his best friend convinces him to go out on a blind date. But that turns sour, leaving Anthony to walk the streets rather than head home and face his friend. That's when he sees the unthinkable: a unicorn killing a man. Fantasy collides with Anthony's reality, and he can't seem to escape the currents pulling him deeper.

Leon Phillips is the strongest of those currents. When he and Anthony meet at the club, they have immediate chemistry, and can hardly keep their hands off each other. But Leon's hiding a secret. He's the unicorn Anthony saw that night, charged with guarding the local population from hunters. As their romance blooms, the secrets leak out until, finally, the unicorn hunters capture Anthony as bait. To keep Anthony safe, as well as the rest of the unicorns, Leon allows himself to be captured instead.

Now perfectly normal Anthony will have to save Leon from his hideous paranormal fate--because that unicorn is his soulmate.


“I don’t know about this,” I said. It didn’t stop me from standing there, letting Terry fix my tie and hair and everything else he thought was wrong with me. “I’m sorry, I just don’t think this is a good idea. I know you’ve set this up for me, and I know it’s a huge deal for you to give up one of your suitors, but I just don’t know.” 

Terry sighed and patted my cheek. “You’re nervous. It’s been a long time since you’ve gone out with anybody.” He gave my face one final squeeze, then went back to straightening my tie. “You need to remember that Carl cheated on you. It’s way past time for you to get back on the horse.” 

Yeah, I was already well aware of all that. “Hell of a pep talk there. You want to remind me about prom night too?” 

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. Prom night wasn’t that bad.” 

I pulled his hands down and looked him right in the eye. “Nancy Wolthorp tried to take you back to a motel room, you came out to her, and she made a huge announcement. I ended up leaving Dave Sands there so I could wash the word ‘fag’ off your ass with turpentine.” 

Terry shook his head and went right back to work. “You make it sound like it was so bad. You still got lucky.” 

“I don’t think jerking off in your bathroom counts as getting lucky.” 

“Well, you can make up for it tonight.” He fastened the top button on my shirt, gave the tie a final jiggle, and apparently I met his standards. 

“How exactly is this going to make up for prom night? Do you even remember how hot Dave Sands was?” I turned around and looked at myself in the mirror hanging from the back of the bathroom door. I would never tell Terry, but I looked damn good. Pressed slacks, polished shoes, white long-sleeved shirt, and black bow tie. Maybe I was a bit overdressed, but the bastard knew what he was doing. 

“You make up for it by letting Darren pound your ass so hard you can’t walk in the morning.” 

I rolled my eyes. “It’s the first date. Some of us in this room aren’t total sluts.” 

“You make it sound like it’s so bad.” He winked at me with those damned blue eyes. They drove everybody crazy in California. No such love for a Montana farm boy like me. My eyes were a perfect match for mud, and nobody ever fantasized about that. I sure never did. 

Terry slid between me and the mirror. “Listen to me, Tony. You’ve had nothing but hookups from online ads lately, and those are as soul-crushing as it gets. I know it. I used to be in the same situation. So I say, if Darren wants to sleep with you, jump on him. Repeatedly.” 

“Whatever.” No point arguing. I wouldn’t convince Terry of anything anyway. He might have been right too. I definitely could have used the release. But again, no need to let him know any of that. “Where is he taking me, again?” 

“Largo. It’s that new Italian place. Just a couple blocks from here.” 

“And he just happened to pick Italian?” 

Terry shrugged, grinning like he just won the damned lottery. “He made the choice all on his own, of course. I guess it was just meant to be. It’s not like an Italian restaurant is an uncommon choice for a first date.” 

“How many times did you have to mention that I liked Italian food before he made his own choice?” 

“Six. So you better bring me back some fucking tiramisu.” 

“I will if I can afford it, but you know fucking tiramisu costs extra. And the chocolate gets everywhere.” 

“God, just don’t tell any jokes on the date. That’ll be a no for sure.” He slapped me on the butt—way too hard—and pushed me out the door. “Now please, have a good time.” 

“That’s the plan.” 

“Well, it’s not a good time if you’re back in the p.m. Remember that.” 

I shut the door behind me. I knew he’d lock up when he left. For all his faults, he was a good guy. I trusted him, even if I didn’t buy into his “good time” philosophy. 

* * * * 

Darren was definitely Terry’s type, and Terry had good taste. He wore a proper black tux, just for the first date. I definitely wasn’t overdressed. That was one nice thing about living in a big city like San Francisco—dressing nice actually happened outside of funerals and weddings. He was almost as skinny and svelte as Terry. A blond with green eyes and the cutest damned butt I’d seen in six months. Totally squeezeworthy. Biteworthy. Up-all-night–worthy. 

All right, maybe I did need to get laid. Bad. Darren was definitely an option and definitely sending me signals. At least, I assumed the hand holding and footsie were signals for sex. 

I leaned over the table. “So, what do you have going on later? Do you want to go somewhere after or just go home?” 

“I think we could go somewhere else after.” He raised my hand to his lips and held it there for a second or two. “Do you live close by?” 

I shook my head. Sure, it was a big-ass lie, but I didn’t know Darren that well. He didn’t need to know where I lived. Not right away. “Are you wanting to…you know?” 

“Fuck? Yeah.” He said it without any hesitation, but red still tinted his cheeks and ears. “I know it’s pretty fast, but I think we have really good chemistry. And you’ve got this whole rough-and-tumble, hardworking-man thing going that’s just driving me nuts.” 

“Well, I’m glad it works for someone.” 

“It definitely does.” Again, he kissed my hand. His lips were warm and soft against my knuckles. “I’m pretty glad I got set up with you.” 

“So am I.” But no need for me to mention that to Terry. I pulled my hand back. “Are you sure you don’t want to go dutch on this check?” I held up a take-out container. Terry’s tiramisu, sans fucking. “Or at least let me pay for this part?” 

“Don’t worry about it. I’m happy to pay for a little thank-you treat for Terry, and I’m sure I’ll be even happier about it in the morning.” He gave my hand one last peck. “I just hope it holds up in my fridge overnight.” 

“I think it’ll be fine.” Damn it, I was doing this. Anyone who might have a problem with it could just screw off. Me included. There was nothing inherently wrong with sex. I could always get to know him later. Or not. I wasn’t thinking with my head anymore. Dick all the way. Damned hypocrite, I was. 

I scooted my chair closer to him so I could whisper. “Well, I’m ready whenever you are.” It was my turn to blush now. No matter how many times I had to go through the whole “conversation” with guys, it was always, always awkward. “I didn’t bring any condoms. So, if we could just stop by the store on the way back to your place, everything’ll be perfect.” 

Darren chuckled. “Come on now. We’re both adults. I know I’m clean. Unless you’re not.” 

Of course. Too goddamn good to actually work out. I pushed back from the table. “You might know that you’re clean, but I don’t know that.” Should have known it wouldn’t be that smooth. “I’m not trying to offend you, but I’ve got to be safe about this. AIDS is everywhere nowadays.” Maybe not everywhere, but I was making a point. 

“Look, I’ll take you home, and you can look at my papers. I got checked up a couple weeks ago. I promise you I’m clean.”

He reached over, but I stood up. “I’m sorry. No condom, no deal. I just…” I squeezed his hand. “I’m sure you’re great, and I really want to sleep with you. Like, a lot.” 

“Well, then what’s the problem?” 

I closed my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths before continuing. “I told you I wasn’t comfortable without protection, and you started trying to convince me instead of respecting me enough to try.” 

“I just don’t like the way they feel.” 

Darren was beginning to lose his appeal, and Terry was beginning to lose his tiramisu. 

“Nobody likes the way condoms feel.” I was loud enough that the people at the other tables were looking at me. Which wasn’t good, and it didn’t make me any less red in the face. I sat down and quieted. “Condoms suck. I get that. But they’re important. And if you’re not willing to compromise on that for me, then I’m not willing to compromise my first-date rule for you. I don’t care what your paperwork says.” 

“Fine.” Darren slapped his hands down on the table and rose up. “And I changed my mind. We’re definitely going dutch.” 

* * * * 

With the container of tiramisu under my arm, I headed back to my apartment. I hoped Terry would still be there. I had some choice words with him about this particular jackass. He more or less charged me for not sleeping with him. Like some reverse whore. It’s not as though I wouldn’t have paid for my part. And his part. Gladly, even. Well, my part for sure. It’s why I ordered light. I never once expected him to go in for the whole bill. But for him to pull that crap after? Because I wouldn’t do bareback? Bullshit. 

That’s why he got a glass of wine tossed on that nice black tux. Anyone who heard our “altercation” probably thought I was just a tight-ass or I felt entitled somehow. Well, they could screw off just as much as Darren. 

I lowered myself onto a bench on the sidewalk. There were still people out and about. A lot of people. Which was just pathetic. I may not subscribe to Terry’s a.m./p.m. theory of fun, but I damn sure knew that a good date shouldn’t end before eight in the damned night. And a date that ends in sex definitely shouldn’t. 

Of course, this date wasn’t ending in sex anymore. 

I couldn’t help wondering why I didn’t just move back home. In Montana, I was pretty hot shit. The whole idea of hotness is totally different there. That hardworking-man look isn’t just the kind of thing a few guys like Darren are into there. It’s pretty much the norm. 

But then I remembered exactly why I stayed away: working on the ranch to avoid getting thrown out of the house, the sidelong glances from Dad, and the awkward family dinners where I had to endure Great-Aunt Ruth asking why I didn’t have a girlfriend yet, a strapping young God-fearing Christian like me. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t haul off and slap her one across the face, either. She was eighty-eight, for fuck’s sake. 

Mostly, though, I remembered what I had here. I wasn’t rich at all. If I took a couple of sick days, I’d feel it at the end of the week. In the ten years since moving to San Fran, I’d had twice as many jobs, and they all paid about the same: crap. But it was my money. I got paid for the work I did, and I could use it to keep myself alive. If anything else came my way—or I got a couple hours of overtime—that was mine to spend how I wanted to, and none of it had to go in the plate at church. 

I smelled the air, felt its warmth in my lungs, in my nose. Fresh-cut grass from the park a few blocks away and hot tar where they’d fixed the road that morning. No horseshit or hay anywhere even close. Not scents I missed. 

I sat there, just a block or so away from home, and I watched. The people wandering by in my neighborhood still fascinated me. The diversity of it all. A pair of goths passing, dropping a few coins in a homeless wino’s cup. A woman in an evening gown, her heels in her hands and a cigarette hanging from her lips. 

I fit in here because everyone fit in here. 

I smiled as I rose and looked straight up. Bright signs and streetlights washed out any brightness that might have come from the night sky, leaving nothing but a veil of black. The darkness hid all the imperfections of the buildings too. In the daylight, you could see how dirty, broken, and cheap a lot of the neighborhood looked. At night? It all vanished. I normally didn’t take enough time to notice it. After living in San Francisco for ten years, the magic of it had sort of worn off. That would probably happen anywhere. But the beauty of that dark, starry sky seemed so obvious in the moment, and it only made my smile wider. 

I could go home now. The home I paid for with my own money. I could even find it in me to let Terry have his tiramisu, despite his pivotal role in this particular round of humiliation. Maybe. This was just one more bad blind date and one more asshole who refused to wear a rubber. Calmed down, I could see that. It sucked, but it was okay. 

I took one step toward home, and then I heard it. A horrible, tearing sound I never liked. It was a horse and not a very happy horse, either. It was in trouble. Bad trouble. I did my best to ignore it, but that only lasted about half a second before eighteen years of training kicked in. I turned around and hauled ass. I couldn’t let the poor thing suffer. 

Each step away from my apartment brought me closer, made the crying louder. So loud. I’d never, in all that time on a horse ranch, heard one crying like this. Not for broken legs, branding, or birth. I couldn’t even fathom what could be causing this kind of pain or terror. 

I heard hooves and I turned. Down an alley, I caught the flash of a tail. I darted across and followed. Surrounded by walls, every sound was even louder. The clopping of hooves, the snorting, and the keening moans. There was no other way to describe that sort of wail of distress. 

I came around the corner and froze. There it was, obviously upset. Someone else was there, but he didn’t seem to be hurting the horse. He was doubled over, clutching his middle. Didn’t even look like he noticed the horse at all. 

But I couldn’t move. I knew a fair bit about horses. Not everything, by far, but I knew enough to recognize breeds. This wasn’t like anything I’d ever seen. He was a stallion, a beautiful steel-gray but with a metallic coat like an Akhal-Teke. His fur caught the light and gleamed silver. His mane and tail were sleek and long, the same color as his coat. 

Mostly, he was huge. I had to guess somewhere around nineteen hands at the shoulder. If I went over there to try and help him, he could trample me by accident. Upset and huge weren’t a good combination. 

He cried out again, rearing back on his hind legs. That’s when I saw it. The horn. A good foot and a half long, it stuck out of his skull, sharp and silver like a sword blade. Just in case he wasn’t scary enough before. 

Then the horn came down. It stabbed right through the guy’s arm and chest and back and came out slick with blood. The stallion pulled back, showering droplets of red across the walls and pavement, and then galloped away. 

Warmth flowed down my leg, and I ran up to the guy. To the body? The victim? I didn’t know what to think or what to call him. I felt like an idiot, checking his pulse. What blood was there left in his body? It had to all be on the ground. There couldn’t be any more than that. It pooled around him, around my shoes, the dirt from the pavement floating in jagged, erratic patterns on top of the red. 

I didn’t find a pulse. He wasn’t breathing. I had to hold back the urge to vomit long enough to make a call. My hands shook so badly that I had to brace against a wall just to call the cops. The stink of iron, blood, piss, and garbage filled my lungs now. I would have taken horseshit and hay.

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Silverfall: Cover and Release Date

Huzzah, my darlings! I have most wonderful news! In fact, most wonderful news times two!

First off, I have the release date for Silverfall. It will be available to you on October 27th, so rejoice!

Also... I have the cover. I suggest you prepare your intimate bits for this one. It could cause some moisture in sensitive areas. Are you prepared for this? I certainly hope so...

Cover Art by Fiona Jayde
Yes, darlings! Yes! I love it so, I do, I do! I hope you do as well.

That's all for now. Expect more as we get closer and closer to the date in question.


Friday, September 25, 2015

Update: Two New Books, a New Short, and... My Endless Love?

Hello, hello, Darlings! I realized I needed to pop by, because there's been quite a bit of news piling up on my end, and I thought I should share it with you.

First off, if you haven't heard, I have a new book coming out through Loose Id. Keep a look out for Silverfall if you're interested in some snarky humor and a sexy unicorn shifter. It's currently slated to come out at the end of October.

Also, after much waiting, Street Magic is finally on the move again. The cover artist is at work, the manuscript is being proofed, and there's not much left to do. I don't have a date on that one, unfortunately, but keep an eye on Storm Moon Press to see what's up with that, as well.

As for the short story... well, that's a bit of a long story. Now, I had written something for a call. They wanted erotic stories about blind vampires. Pretty specific, but I thought I could do it. But by the time I got it written, the word count had been changed, and my piece was far too short. You can imagine my horror at that, darlings.

But, a few months later, I saw the call for Blood in the Rain and I said "Okay, sure." I wasn't doing anything else with the story, so I sent it off there. It was a good story. There was no reason to leave it sit when there was a perfectly viable market there. And since they wanted Pacific Northwest Authors, it was an exciting prospect for me.

Well, I made it into the antho. Again, I don't have a date, but it should be soon. They say it's going to be out in time for Halloween, so I would place my guess at early-mid October. Keep your eye on Cwtch Press for more info on that.

And as for the endless love? Well, that's what I feel for all of you. You've stuck through me with this whole thing, even though I sometimes disappear for unspecified, unannounced periods of time, and I'm still working to peg down a regular release schedule. You're here. Even if you're knew, that means that you are willing to give this old broad a chance. And I love you for that.

Now, go have some wine. No, not the cheap stuff. You deserve better.


Friday, July 31, 2015

A Quick Shout into the Void

My darlings, I have to apologize for the total and complete radio silence… and all other types of silence. It’s been a big, strenuous time for me, trying to cram quite a bit of work in around taking care of the dogs and very important procrastination that needed attending to. Yes, that’s basically what it was – procrastination.

But I did get some work done while I was working. I edited Silverfall and am currently sending it around to publishers in the hopes of it getting picked up. If it does, then prepare yourself for some sexy unicorn shifters (Written before Chuck Tingle made unicorns popular, too.). I also sent out the first book of my big, sexy fantasy series to beta readers, so I’m gathering up the wine necessary to make it through their notes.

Judging from what I’ve heard about it so far, I’m going to need a lot more wine that I currently have. Oh, the woes of living in a small, mostly dry town. It makes my poor old heart ache.

Aside from that? I haven’t really been doing much. A few plotting things here and there, planning for a big trip to a convention, watching the feeds come in from RWA Nationals over the last week. All that fun stuff that I would be doing anyway. But as of today, I’m back on the horse… mostly because I looked at my production schedule and realized just how far behind I could end up if I didn’t start working again immediately.

I will try to be better about posting, too. In the meantime… have this picture to sate yourself, darlings: