Three Word Wednesday: Hallow's Eve

It's been awhile since I've posted here. I've been pretty busy at the Maelstrom site, though, so if you haven't been keeping up, there's lots of good stuff over there, and more to come!

Here's a Three Word Wednesday poem that didn't really fit on any of my other blogs, though.

Happy Halloween, everyone!


Hallow's Eve

Gloom incubates in brooding memory,
bitter winds strip vanity from the day.
Musty smell of earth as summer rots,
and sunshine dreams turn autumn nightmare.

Disguise yourself with bones and rags;
salvation lies in masquerade.
The veil grows thin as winter comes.
Dark spirits walk tonight.

Maelstrom Chapter Posted

Just an FYI that the First Chapter of Maelstrom is up!

Sorry for the lack of posts here recently, but I've been writing a lot of content for the Maelstrom site, desigining a chapbook, and doing other writerly things. I'm also starting to plot a sequel to Maelstrom, which will take the band to Texas and a Dia de los Muertos festival.

Contest Announcement

NOTE: This is cross-posted to my main blog.

I'm running a Valentine's contest at the Maelstrom site, and the winner will receive chocolate and a chance to guest blog or be the subject of a Maelstrom story. Head on over and check it out!

New Story: Once to Buy a Mattress

I've posted a new Maelstrom story: Once to Buy a Mattress.

The website continues to take shape. I have a "review" in the works for one of Maelstrom's shows, and the original artwork will be ready in about a week. I'll probably leave the remaining formatting and link issues as they stand now until I have the art, in case I end up needing to do an overhaul to accommodate the art.

Comments and suggestions about the website are much appreciated!

Easier Than Expected

The changes I wanted to make before opening the blog to all comers were easier than I thought! It's still a work in progress, but drop on by when you get a chance and share your feedback!

Maelstrom's Website

Coming Soon: Maelstrom Website

Although I still haven't got my artwork, I've decided to open up the Maelstrom website for viewing sometime between now (Friday) and the end of the weekend. The driver for this is a new flash fiction piece I want to share and of course, my own impatience.

So...new website coming soon!

Done!

I finished Maelstrom last night. Or rather, this morning.

Sometimes I get a crazy notion and just won't let go, and yesterday that notion was that I would finish, no matter what. It took until 4:00 am, but what the heck, I don't go back to work until January 5. In spite of my earlier worries that I was going to go wildly over my anticipated word count, the draft came in around 93K words. Whew!

I'm not too crazy about the final scenes of the book, but we all know the drill--you can edit crap but you can't edit a blank page. Well, no more blank pages. I'm on to the editing phase!

Overall, this is a pretty clean draft so I'll be needing beta readers sooner rather than later. More on that soon.

For today, I'm just loving my Christmas present to myself--a completed draft!

Maelstrom Excerpt: Christmas (conclusion)

We conclude Ricky's Christmas with more than just a bit of holiday cheer.

“Your friends sure are a lively bunch,” his mother said, scanning his face in concern. “Why were you so mean to them? They obviously think highly of you.”

“The bass player kissed my wife,” Mike said darkly.

“Holiday spirit,” Ricky informed him. Then to his mother he said, “I wasn’t trying to be mean. It’s just that I told them not to go caroling. I don’t want them making any mistakes and getting bad publicity.”

“It seems like good publicity to me,” Joanne said, still glassy-eyed over her encounter with Bo. “We should go see their show.”

“Not on your life,” Mike said. He poured himself a drink. Then in an uncharacteristically generous move, he poured one for Ricky. “Cheers?”

Ricky touched his glass to Mike’s and tried to smile, but there was something in his brother's coolly appraising look that he didn’t like. Something had aroused his suspicion and it wasn’t just Bo giving Joanne a holiday kiss.

While the family settled in front of the TV to watch It’s a Wonderful Life, Ricky sipped his scotch and pondered. Where had the band gone next? Were they keeping out of trouble or were they about to ruin everything he had helped them build since summer? And why did Mike keep looking at him that way? Seeking a distraction, he opened his Christmas stocking. Most of what was inside was typical holiday fare—chocolate and peppermint candies, a snowman magnet for the refrigerator, a packet of almonds, and a silver Christmas coin like the ones Nevin had given the children. It was the envelope, though, that Ricky found most curious. He opened it to find a card with a reindeer and Santa on it, and the words, “Holiday Wishes.” He opened the card and what he found inside left him staring in shock.

Mike was watching him carefully. “What’s the matter, Ricky?”

Deep breaths. It had to be a joke, except the band didn’t kid around when it came to matters like this. More deep breaths.

“Love letter from your cute guitar player?”

“No,” Ricky said. “Just an ordinary Christmas card. And my holiday bonus check.”

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and very best wishes to you and yours, whatever you're celebrating this year!

Maelstrom Excerpt: Christmas (continued)

Continuing with the Christmas excerpts from Maelstrom, Ricky confronts the band over having ignored his instructions not to go caroling.

Spurning his coat, Ricky chased them to the tour bus, which was painted for the occasion with red and white stripes like a peppermint stick. He ignored Calvin, who seemed impatient to get going, and cornered everyone against the bus door in the lightly falling snow. “What the hell was that all about?”

“Christmas cheer,” Kalila told him. “Really, Ricky, you should study up on your culture.”

“But I told you I didn’t want you to go caroling. Please tell me this was a special thing you did just for me.”

Vic sneered. “You’re not that special, human. We already did Jeff Truitt and a couple other music reporters.”

“And we have several more people on our list,” Kalila said. “So we need to get going.”

“What others? This is not acceptable.”

“Oh, Ricky.” Nevin shook his head sadly. “Where’s your Christmas spirit?”

“We’re conforming to human expectations of behavior,” Bo pointed out. “In case you didn’t notice, I could’ve banged your sister-in-law, but I didn’t. We have things completely under control.”

“That’s because we’ve got snacks on the bus,” Vic said. As if on cue, two blondes in Santa hats opened a window and leaned out, waving and shouting, “Merry Christmas!”

Ricky shook his head. “Jesus Christ.”

Vic adjusted his scarf. “That’s what it’s all about. Excuse me, but one of these young ladies is type O and I need a little refreshment before our next stop.”

He shoved his way past and got onto the bus, with the others following suit. Nevin was the last to go, after giving Ricky a hug and wishing him a Merry Christmas. Ricky watched the tour bus head down the street, then went back into the house, shivering and in need of an egg nog with a lot of extra rum. In fact, screw the egg nog. Just the rum would do.

to be continued...

Maelstrom Excerpt: Christmas (continued)

Continuing with the Christmas excerpts from Maelstrom, Ricky finds himself forced to play host to some unexpected guests.

Ricky sucked in his breath and debated what to do next. “Uh, yeah. This is that big client I was telling you about.” He started to make introductions, but his mother interrupted.

“Ricky, if these are your friends, you need to invite them in.”

“Yeah, it’s cold out,” Adela added, shivering.

He waved the band inside, but grabbed Kalila by the arm. He pulled her aside and muttered in her ear, “Count your blessings that you’re immortal. I could kill you right about now.”

Kalila patted his cheek with a mittened hand. “Merry Christmas to you too, Ricky.”

Ricky introduced everyone, more for his family’s sake than the band’s since they no doubt knew who everyone was already. Then Nevin accepted a cup of hot chocolate and the other band members shed their coats and helped themselves to the scotch. Mike gawked at Kalila in her sexy elf costume, Joanne hovered near Bo, obviously smitten, and Ricky was wondering just how long things could last without a blowup of some kind when Nevin offered to do some magic tricks for the children.

Ricky met his eyes in silent gratitude and urged the family to the sofa to watch. “You’ll love this,” he said, although he had no clue what the fairy had in mind. “He’s very talented.”

Nevin started with some traditional card tricks, then went on to make silver Christmas coins appear in the children’s pockets, in Joanne’s new Coach bag, and behind Mike’s ear. He finished his show by conjuring stockings stuffed with trinkets and candy, which he handed to each family member, including Ricky. Then, while Joanne made cow eyes at Bo, and Mike stared at Kalila’s breasts, the band sang a rousing version of “Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer,” with the children singing along. When they were finished, they shook hands with everyone and Bo gave Joanne a kiss while Mike glared and clenched his fists like he wished he could throttle him. They approached Ricky’s mother last.

“You have a terrific son, Mrs. Landon,” Nevin told her. “He’s been such a help to us.”

“He’s the best manager we’ve ever had, and we’re sure you’re very proud of him,” Kalila added.

Ricky tried to catch Kalila’s eye while his mother stammered something about what a good boy he was and how she always knew he had it in him. Then the band wished everyone a good night and trooped outside and down the steps like an entire parade.

to be continued...

Maelstrom Excerpt: Christmas

Continuing with the Christmas excerpts from Maelstrom, we find Ricky having Christmas with his family. The band has been generous (they can afford to be, since immortality allows one to make a killing on long-term investments) and Ricky is having fun showing off to his snobby brother and SIL.

It was Christmas Eve, and for the first time in years, Ricky was enjoying it. His niece and nephew had liked their gifts enough to actually hug him, and Mike and Joanne smoldered with annoyance.

“I hope this didn’t set you back too much,” Joanne said in her catty way as she examined her new Coach bag for evidence that it was a fake.

“This was more than we expected,” Mike added, waving a hand in the direction of his new golf clubs. “Especially when the payments on your new ride must be costing you a pretty penny.”

“Actually, the Lexus is paid for,” Ricky said, relishing the disbelief on their faces. “The insurance is a little high, but it’s within my budget.”

Ricky’s mother leaned toward him. “This is all lovely, dear, and we’re glad you’re doing so well, but we’re a little concerned—” she glanced toward the front door and frowned.

Ricky heard the sound too, and his momentary bewilderment became a sinking feeling.

Adela jumped to her feet. “Carolers?”

“Don’t open that door,” Ricky called after her, but it was too late. Adela flung open the door and there on the doorstep, looking for all the world like ordinary humans in winter coats and scarves, were Nevin and Kalila, harmonizing “Adeste, Fidelis,” while Bo and Vic stood behind them strumming guitars and Lazaro tapped a silver triangle.

Adela and Little Mike clapped their hands and urged “Grandma” to come see. Meanwhile, Ricky came to the door and gave the band the fiercest glare he could manage. It did no good. They finished the song and Bo shouted, “Happy Christmas!”

“It’s ‘Merry Christmas,’” Kalila reminded him. She turned her best smile on Ricky and his family. “You get one more song,” she said. “Do you want traditional or modern?”

“Kalila—”

Mike looked at Ricky. “You know these people?”

to be continued...

Updates on Maelstrom and Other Things

Just checking in to let folks know I'm in the process of setting up a website for Maelstrom. Until I get my artwork, anything I do will be temporary, but it's fun to start working on the layout now so I'll be ready. I've got two more days of work (one and a half if my boss lets us go early on Tuesday, like she did the day before Thanksgiving) and then I'll have through the first of the year to tinker with the new site, write, and do other fun things.

In addition to the new site, I've got lots of new ideas for my main writer site, so that will likely get a "closed for remodeling" post over the holiday break while I do some mucking around and get ready to launch some new ideas.

Between now and Christmas, I'll be posting excerpts from my draft, so my friends can see how Ricky and his band of demons celebrate the holidays. Enjoy!

* * *

“Uh, Ricky?” Kalila waved a hand to catch his attention. “We have a question for you. Or actually, an idea.”

Ricky was immediately on his guard, but affected an expression of polite interest.

“We were wondering if we could go Christmas caroling.”

Ricky stared in disbelief. “You know what that is, right? Going door to door, singing songs about reindeer and Baby Jesus?”

Kalila shrugged. “Yeah. So?”

“So you’re a demon, pagan, metal band. You don’t think that’s just a little inappropriate?”

“But the songs are so pretty,” Nevin said.

“And it would be good publicity,” Kalila pointed out. “You could find a reporter to do a story about us spreading that holiday cheer stuff.”

“No. I just can’t see a vampire singing ‘Away in a Manger’ while you do guitar riffs in the background.”

“I would take my acoustic guitar,” Kalila said in tones that suggested Ricky wasn’t very smart. “Where would I plug in my amp if I took the Stratocaster door to door?”

“Look,” Ricky said. “I appreciate your creative thinking and your interest in marketing yourselves, but Christmas caroling is just not a good idea. Can you trust me on this?”

Kalila raised her eyebrows and exchanged a look with the other band members, but her words were acquiescent. “Of course we trust you, Ricky.” She picked up her guitar. “We’ve been making some changes to ‘Carrion Road.’ Want to hear?”

Art and Marketing

Yesterday I heard back from Rebecca Gunter, the artist who is going to do a color drawing of the band in my WIP. I told her in November to let me know when she was ready for my info, and last night upon her request, I sent character sketches, an overview of the story, and a short excerpt. Her Livejournal site says she's booked through the end of the year and she previously told me to expect something in January or maybe late December, but of course I'd be thrilled if she could have a first sketch for me to look at sooner.

We shall see. I can be patient, since the draft isn't even done yet and I don't have a website or even a domain name for the project. I've got a lot of ideas for how to market this, though, using the university to build a readership. College students are a great target audience for this type of story and I've got all of Houston's biggest campuses within a five mile radius, as well as the indie bookstores and guitar/drum shops. Catchy artwork and a little perseverance ought to reap rewards.

And a completed, edited, beta-read, re-edited-until-it-hurts novel. Gotta get on that and quit dilly-dallying over my tea at night.

Checking In

Just checking in so no one thinks I've forgotten about this blog. I'm over 75K on the WIP now, hoping I can finish the draft around 90K. I'd like to be done by Christmas so I can use my break from work to focus on editing, building a website, and working with the artist on a nice manga-style drawing of the band.

I'm having a lot of fun with this novel and I'm looking forward to having something I can share!

Short Story: Maelstrom Thanksgiving

AUTHOR'S NOTE:This story is based on my current work in progress, a novel about an ordinary human who finds himself managing a group of demons determined to achieve rock and roll fame without resorting to magic. The action of this story takes place during the novel but is not part of it, and was inspired by this week's Sunday Scribblings prompt and the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday.

Was there anything more depressing than a holiday on the road? Ricky switched through the TV channels. He should be at home having Thanksgiving with his mother, not at the Ambassador Suites hotel, or wherever the hell he was. After so many weeks of touring, it was all running together.

On the television, an aggressively cheerful woman was basting a turkey. She reminded him of his sister-in-law, Joanne. At least he wasn’t having to deal with her today. Small blessings. He turned off the TV and stretched. It was early for the band to be awake, but he had no friends in this town and any companionship was better than none.

The door to the band’s suite opened before he could knock, and Calvin the werewolf blocked his way. “They’re busy, human.”

Ricky tried to peer around him. “What are they doing?” From this vantage he could see Kalila and Nevin on the sofa, huddled over a book.

“It’s a surprise.”

This wasn’t good. Ricky had been managing the band since summer and they had yet to come up with a surprise that wasn’t illegal, immoral, or both. He tried to shove his way into the room, but Calvin tossed him into the hall with ease. Kalila noticed and came to the door with a curt order for the werewolf to “heel.”

She leaned against the doorframe and watched Ricky get to his feet. “Why aren’t you attending to human things? It’s a holiday for you, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but it’s a family holiday. There’s no “human things” for me to attend to out here on the road.”

“Oh. Well, don’t blame us for your troubles.” She looked over her shoulder at Nevin. “Should we let him in?”

“Of course. We’re the only family he has today.”

“That’s pathetic.” Kalila waved Ricky into their suite. “No sentimentality, okay? We’re not a substitute for whatever you would’ve done at home—caroling, hunting for colored eggs, or whatever.”

“I think you’ve got the holidays mixed up.” Ricky went to move Kalila’s book so he could sit on the sofa, but it vanished in his hand before he could get a look at the title.

“None of your business,” she said.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Nevin told her. Then he gave Ricky a childlike smile. “So is there anything in particular you’d like to do today?”

“No, I just wanted some company.”

The fairy nodded wisely. “It seems to be a common sentiment among your kind.” He indicated the closed door to the back of the suite. “Arlinda from the front desk felt the same way. Bo is helping her out.”

Ricky had already noticed the sound of creaking bedsprings. “I thought I told him to leave the hotel staff alone.”

Kalila sank into an upholstered chair and dangled her long legs over the armrest. “He was after a cute girl at the pool until he found out she was underage. He thought you’d be more upset about that than the desk clerk. And you know what Bo is like if he goes too long without feeding.”

With a small shudder Ricky remembered the times the bass player had tried to back him into a corner for a quickie. Bo’s preference was human females, but when an incubus got hungry enough, anything from a human male to a gazelle would do.

“So tell me about this holiday of yours,” Kalila went on, in a tone so artlessly casual that Ricky was immediately on his guard. “It has something to do with football and Pilgrims, right?”

“Not exactly.” Ricky tried his best to explain the concept of Thanksgiving. “It’s about being grateful for the good things that have happened in the year. It’s about sharing as a way of showing thanks for your blessings.”

While Kalila pondered this, Ricky looked around. “So where are Vic and Lazaro? Sleeping?”

“They had an errand to take care of.”

Ricky sat up in alarm. “What kind of errand?”

“Don’t worry. They wore their hats and ski masks.”

That the vampire and zombie were out in daytime was the least of Ricky’s worries. “The sun isn’t what scares me. I want to know where they went. The blood bank? The morgue? How am I supposed to keep you guys out of trouble when you go doing crazy demon shit all the time?”

“You worry too much.” Kalila stood up. “And you’re starting to bore me.” She exchanged a look with Nevin, who took Ricky by the elbow and tried to pull him toward the door.

“Wouldn’t you like to go back to your room?” Nevin said. “You’ll feel much better after a nap.”

“I’m not sleepy. I need to find out what Vic and Lazaro are doing so I can make them stop. I need for Bo to quit banging the hotel staff and start acting like a civilized creature. I need—”

“Oh, Ricky. You’re overwrought by all this silly holiday business.” Before Ricky could answer, Nevin tossed a handful of pink glitter in his face, making sure to catch him when he fell.

* * *

Ricky awoke in his own bed, comfortable and his mind at ease. The sunlight filtered through the half-open curtains at a low angle that made him wonder if it was morning or evening. He spent a few minutes trying to piece together how he had gotten here. Oh, yes. Fairy magic. He relaxed, knowing he would be pissed about it later, but there was no point trying to drum up negative emotions until the effects wore off. What the hell was he in band management for when he could make a fortune selling Nevin’s fairy potions?

A sound of whispered argument from the front room caught his attention. Was it a robbery? Some kind of mischief from the band of washed-up deities that had kidnapped the tour manager, leaving Ricky to handle the tour himself? Oddly, he felt no sense of alarm. Damn Nevin and his stupid spells.

An unmistakable aroma began filling the room. At first Ricky thought his senses were deceiving him, but then his stomach rumbled and he decided that whatever the danger on the other side of the door, it was one that included food and should be investigated. He got out of bed and quietly opened the door.

White tablecloth. Candles. Nevin arranging flowers in a vase. In the kitchenette, Kalila was spooning things onto a plate while Vic leaned against the counter watching in disgust. Bo was on the sofa playing with the TV remote and Lazaro sat in an upholstered chair, tapping a soft rhythm on his knee with a pair of sticks. Overseeing from the doorway was Calvin, gnawing a turkey bone.

Ricky stepped into the room and everyone stopped what they were doing. Kalila turned to Nevin with a frown. “He’s not supposed to be up yet, is he?”

Nevin shrugged. “Close enough.”

“I suppose.” She set a plate of food on the table. “Happy Thanksgiving, human.” When Ricky didn’t answer right away, she glanced at the plate in concern. “We got it right, didn’t we? “Turkey, stuffing, potatoes …”

“And I found us a football game to watch,” Bo said.

“I thought you only watched porn,” Ricky said.

The incubus set the remote aside. “I can make sacrifices. Enjoy your dinner.”

“With your new family,” Nevin added. He pointed to his plate of green beans. “I can join you, right?”

“You can all join me.”

“Food’s not bloody enough,” Vic said. “But thanks.”

“No. Thank you. You guys—”

“Stop that,” Kalila said. “No weird human emotions.”

Ricky sat down. “But it doesn’t work like that. This is a day for being grateful for food, friends, family, and all the other good things in our lives.”

“Or our deaths,” Lazaro reminded him.

“Right. For whatever we have that we like.”

Nevin set down his plate and gave Ricky a hug. “And we like you.”

“That’s pushing it a bit, glitter boy,” Vic said

Kalila crossed her arms and looked at Ricky in annoyance. “So are you going to eat, or what? I did a lot of research on that meal to get it to your silly human standards.”

“And I’m grateful for it,” Ricky told her, picking up a fork. “Even if you are a bitchy genie.”

“I’m a what?”

“And I’m grateful for you, too.”

Kalila’s face changed slightly. “Are you really?”

“Yeah.” He scooted over and patted the place beside him on the sofa. “Want to join me?”

Their eyes met and Ricky held his breath. The only thing Kalila hated more than being disrespected was being liked. Had he gone too far?

She ran a nervous hand through her hair. “I guess there would be no harm in it.” She sat down beside him, as cautiously as if Ricky might be dangerous.

Bo grinned. “What’s the matter, djinn? He’s the only one in this room who doesn’t bite.”

Kalila ignored him and pretended great interest in Ricky’s food. “So I got it right? The cranberries and everything?”

“It’s perfect Kalila. Thank you.”

She nodded in cool satisfaction. “You’ve done a lot for us. It was the least we could do.” She hesitated, then gave him a quick, embarrassed hug. “Happy Thanksgiving…friend.”

Strangers to All, Strangers to None

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a true story, and one I hadn't thought of for years until it popped into my mind for no particular reason last week. I recount it here for Sunday Scribblings.

When my grandmother was still alive, Dan and I would make an annual summer pilgrimage to Connecticut to visit her. Since everything in New England is so close, we always combined the trip with other fun adventures, including the annual Covered Bridges Half Marathon in Vermont. We had a favorite rural B&B we stayed at, and after a few years of visits, we felt quite at home there.

One of our favorite things to do in the evening was make tea and sit in chairs on the front lawn, looking at the night sky. There were no street lights or city lights to dim the vast expanse of stars, and it was so quiet that we could hear the wind in the pines and the rushing water of the brook up the road. It was a peaceful way to end our busy days before turning in for the night.

One evening we saw a pair of headlights make their way slowly up the country road. We watched in that lazy way one watches everything in the country. To our surprise, the van pulled to the side of the road right in front of us and a man rolled down the window. In broken English with an unmistakable Spanish accent, he asked directions.

Now, usually tourists like us are the worst people you can ask directions from because they spend most of their time lost, too. But this was our third summer in the area and Dan did, in fact, know the place the occupants of the van were trying to go. Since we were from Texas and bilingual, we understood without having to ask that we would only get them lost again if we gave the men directions in English. As it turned out, they were natives of Ecuador, on their way to the annual Pow-Wow in one of the nearby towns. We were impressed that they had come so far. We explained in Spanish how to get to their campground, wished them well, and watched them drive away into the night.

As we went back to our tea, Dan and I pondered the strange ways the universe works. What were the odds that a group of Spanish-dominant South American natives should become lost on a rural road in Vermont at night and happen across a pair of bilingual Texan tourists who just happened to know how to get them where they needed to go and could explain it in their own language? Strangers to each other and all of us far from home, we found each other, anyway. Sometimes the universe gives us exactly what we need, that lucky little break, just when we least expect it.

We sipped our tea and returned to admiring the velvet sky and its infinite span of stars. We were no longer strangers here. We were home.

The Writer and the Pesky Spouse

I'm sure I speak for most writers when I say that I need control over my environment when I write. Everyone has a setup that works for them, but for most of us, it's one that is one of limited random distractions.

Somehow, I can't get my husband completely on board with this. He knows that once I've made my evening tea and shut the door at night, I'm not to be disturbed. But I like to use my Sunday morning to read through what I wrote the night before and maybe write a little more. For some reason though, Dan doesn't get it that the previous night's "don't disturb" rules apply to morning writing time as well.

And so I get pestered with questions, bits of cheerful morning song, requests for things to pick up at the store when I go run errands later, and tales of what the cat or bunny are up to, and although it's always a lovely thing to have one's spouse in a happy and sharing mood, there are times when it's just aggravating as all hell. I read the same three paragraphs over and over, unable to get the full effect (or just check if there even is an effect) because of the pestering.

"Have you seen my running shoes?"

"Where's the sugar?"

"Does this coffee cup look clean?"

"Come see what the bunny is doing. He's so cute!"

Oh well. There's always tonight for writing.

My Story at Every Day Fiction

My quirky romance "End Times" is the story of the day today at Every Day Fiction. Go check it out, and if you like it, be sure to leave a comment!

A Date and an Announcement

First, we have a pub date! My quirky romance, "End Times" will be published in Every Day Fiction on October 24. Mark your calendars! In spite of the title, I promise it's not another depressing post-apocalyptic tale. Honest! One of the editors called it, "A sweet and unusual romance." It's a departure from my usual work and I'm excited that it found a home.

And next, it looks like Every Day Fiction is looking for slush pile readers. Here's the post where they're asking for volunteers. It sounds like it could be a good experiene and a way to make new contacts in the online fiction community, so if anyone has the time, get in touch with them and let them know!

Happy reading and writing, everyone!

News!

One of my short stories has been selected for Every Day Fiction! I'll be sure to post the date when I know it and the link when it gets posted. Yay!