Tag: Clairvoyant

the interminable wait for book _______

So, here’s the thing.  I am a reader.  And with the advent of new technology, I can have my phone read to me while I do a gazillion other things…So, due to the fact that I had a speed reading class in high school and …well I consume books.  And quickly.  It makes Tuesdays my favorite day.  And I have a lot of series I follow.  So Karen Chance is one among the many for me.  And at first I was Seriously mad at the delays and changing publication dates.  

But in the last year, I have come to realize that my book’s are a coping mechanism.  They give me something to hold on to.  Something to talk about.  Something to occupy the 60% of my brain that keeps screaming this can’t be my life.  And to let me be somewhat calm, and positive.  At least I’m not being chased by monsters, only creditors!  And yes, I am a widow with two beautiful teenage daughters.  Which means that I am scared to bring any man home because I am very careful about my blue eyed, blonde haired beautiful brilliant children are exposed to.  And I had a great husband which means I am not willing to settle for anything else.  So I read a lot of very explicit series cause that’s my only sexual release.

So I read Laurell K Hamilton and lots of others.  But here’s the thing.  We have to support our authors.  The publishing business is hard.  And they create these amazing worlds and characters we all.love.   And for them the creation process is amazingly complex with first drafts and then edit after edit.  Some people get really nasty about these amazing works of creation.  And I understand that, too.  I love the main characters in my books.  They are like friends who I visit with every time I read the book.   And I hate some of the things that happen.  In a way even the violently negative feedback is a compliment to the author.  But why should they keep spending 6-8 hours a day writing for us if we just bitch about it.  Why do the work of edit after edit?  

I am making a stand.  Laurell K Hamilton won’t publish when her next book will be out or which series it will be.  Why should she? Her fans will wail and whimper.  If she just publishes it and tells us after the last draft is finalized, she gets to bypass all the people mad when she misses a date!  And poor Karen Chance, who keeps trying to put out book 8-but the book is too long for paperback.  And then there’s the other stuff she writes.  Freebie’s that are hard work for her but taken as though they are due to the readers.  Ever since Karen published Book 7, with delays, she has been working hard to give us a good book 8.  And what do the readers do? Some of us go back and reread.  Look for all the nuances we keep missing in the race to find out what happened.  And then another group gets vocal-and trashes Karen Chance for missing publicized release dates.  Rather than doing that, I’m doing the opposite.

I am going to support my favorite authors.  I don’t care how long I have to wait for the next installment.  I’m going to send them messages, asking questions about the books I have.  I’m going to reread, and laugh and cry and scream and yell.  I’m going to write new reviews, new FAQs, new posts.  I’m going to do whatever the hell I can to make sure I get to know how the stories end.  I will write petitions.  I will beg,  plead and cajole.  I will help the next Kit Colbana book be made by sending money on Patreon.  And I will appreciate the freebies, the alternate POV, the deleted scenes.  I am doubly supportive of the authors I love who have prepublished schedules and put out surprise books too! I love Jenna Black and Lauren Dane and Seanan Mcguire and Kelley Armstrong and Christine Feehan.  But I will keep on supporting everyone…

duel. It was days like this that made me wonder how, even with his fighting ability, the guy had survived as long as he had. He was honest and honorable and ethical and generous, in a culture that was exactly none of those things. That didn’t even value those things, because “good” was a relative term and being a good vampire was to be like Marlowe: cunning, deceitful, ruthless, overwhelming. Or like Mircea: calm, patient, resourceful, relentless. “Kind” wasn’t in the job description; “compassionate” even less so. Damn it, the man needed a keeper. Yeah, sure he did. A dark-haired, dimpled, dhampir keeper, which wasn’t going to happen, so just shut up . Sometimes I didn’t think it mattered what Mircea did in my head, because I was already crazy anyway. said resentfully. “Quoi?” I sighed. “I’m fine ,” I said, just wanting to get this over with. “I see what you mean,” he told Claire drily, and she blinked at him in what looked like surprise. There was no point in stalling, so I walked over and sat down, really glad that I’d had that drink earlier. Even with Claire’s presence leeching the manic energy off my skin, like some kind of supernatural magnet, I was still crawling with it. Any other time, I’d have been crawling the walls, too—or, more likely, punching through them. As it was, I wanted this done

Furys Kiss Karen Chance 
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Look, It’s a bike for Radu!!!!!

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And these burned pure, cold silver. Of course, I thought dully. Because a raging river, a bunch of rock-wielding savages, and a nonexistent power stream weren’t enough. That would be easy mode. And somewhere along the line I’d transitioned over to expert. Which would have been fine if I had as many lives as a video game character. But I had only one. Which I was about to lose. “—then again,” Pritkin shouted, because he was still talking , “there’s a slight chance they may not have had time to absorb my particular brand of charm on my last visit—” “You don’t have any charm,” I snarled, and shoved him off the rock.

Karen Chance, 

Reap the Wind Cassie and pritkin

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And then Fred came to the rescue. “No, no, no, I got this,” he said, jogging in from the lounge, and talking to someone over his shoulder. “Got what?” I asked warily as he turned to me and grinned. Don’t know why.” Because they’re depressing, I didn’t say, since he was only trying to help. But honestly, who bought black balloons? Fred, apparently, and now he was blowing them up. “Trust me … I used to do this … all the time,” he told me in between breaths. He soon had a cluster of long, skinny tubes, which he then proceeded to tie together using vampire speed. One second, there was a depressing bunch of cylinders, and the next … It was worse. The kids were glancing at each other, like they didn’t know what to make of it, either. But Fred looked hopeful. And then he started moving his creation up and down, so that the tortured appendages hanging off either side flopped about in a dying-bird sort of way. One of the littlest girls made a sound and hid her face.“Fred,” I began, trying to figure out how to say please stop without hurting his feelings. And then one of the guys solved the problem for me. “What the fu—uh, heck?” “Leo,” Roy said, frowning at him from beside the bar. “What? I said heck. And look at that thing.” “What is it?” another guy asked. “A spider?” “A bat, obviously,” Fred said. And flapped it about some more, on the theory, I assume, that he just hadn’t been vigorous enough the first time. “Freakiest thing I ever saw,” the vamp mumbled. “Freakiest?” Roy dropped ice into a glass. “You haven’t been here long enough.” “Then why does it feel that way?” “I have more,” Fred said, finally realizing that his distraction was not a hit. “A lot more. I used to make these all the time—well, the pig bladder kind—” “But were any of them any good?” Leo asked. Fred stopped to glare at him, while Roy assessed his latest attempt. “What is that?” “It’s a clown!” “Oh, demonic clown. Great choice.” gift from someone I cared about, so I just never had. Plus, they had a charm on them I thought the girls might like. It had proven oddly accurate at reading the atmosphere around a situation and giving advice in the form of a pertinent card. And sure enough, practically as soon as I touched them, one popped up. A black one. A black one with a leering devil on it.Well, shit.

Karen Chance Tempt the Stars
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My toes slid lower, across satiny skin and crisp hair to a velvety hardness that jumped eagerly under my touch. I felt a little clumsy—I wasn’t nearly as dexterous as with my hands—but my foot was surprisingly sensitive. I hadn’t expected to feel … quite so much. My own breath picked up a little as I went exploring, sliding my toes slowly up and down that rigid column. And I guess I must have gotten something right, because it swelled impossibly bigger under my touch. “That isn’t …” He stopped and licked his lips. “That isn’t going to work.” I laughed. “Yeah. That was convincing.” Particularly since Mircea could put a halt to this at any time. Unlike a human male, a vampire has perfect blood control. He could have willed all that lovely hardness away, could have refused to play. But that would have been admitting defeat, pretend wasn’t there, would never permit. So I gently fondled the superb length of him, so thick, so silky soft, so good against my skin. And sighed. “This isn’t going to get you anywhere, either,” I was informed tightly. “That’s okay.” I ran a single digit over the smooth head, watching it blush like a girl in pleasure. “I’m pretty comfortable where I am.”

Hunt the Moon, Karen Chance
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“We don’t have time.” “No.” “Then we’re on our own.” And for some reason, I felt the tension relax in my neck. It must have in my voice, too, because Mircea looked at me narrowly. “Is there a reason you suddenly sound relieved ?” “It’s not … relief exactly. It’s just that … well, it’s fly-by-the- times when I truly believe you are the most frightening person I know.” I blinked. “Thank you?” “You’re welcome.” And then we didn’t say anything else. Because we spotted them.

Hunt the moon, Karen Chance
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Deleted Scene Hunt the Moon

I yawned again, because the damn coffee was weak as water, and tried to think. “I don’t know,” I finally told him. “There were at least four or five, but there could have been six or even more. It was hard to tell. Like you said, they were freaking Weebles.”
“Weebles?” Caleb looked confused. “I didn’t say anything about Weebles.”
“Evil Weebles,” Fred added.
“What the hell are Weebles?”
“You know, those little round toy things?” I said. “They wobble but they don’t—never mind.” Deleted scene but just too cool to keep to myself

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I think that was about the time I gave up on logic and just decided to go with the flow. If I was lucky, someone had spiked my drink and I was hallucinating

Karen Chance Touch the Dark
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The Chanceverse Reread

The Chanceverse Reread

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