Tag: money

Laurell K Hamilton post

In preparation for the release of Sucker Punch in August, I recently completed a reread of the entire Anita Blake series.  Every time I do this, I find myself wondering about different  questions and I pepper my friends who are also fans with questions AND go on rants about primarily Richard but some of the others as well.  There  are books i seem to fly through and others where I slog through.  Each time those books change, so I am not going to say which ones read slow or fast.  
So, here for your consumption is a list of things  (passages) that spoke to me this read through  not necessarily in order so you will have to search to find them:
The practicalities of life do not cease needing to be done just because other things are going wrong.
Love’s hard to come by, Edward; you should never throw it away just because it’s a bad idea.
Either choice was a bad one. Multiple choice should have at least one right answer, but some people only come with wrong answers. Some people are like rigged tests where you can only fail.
It can always get worse.
The love of a lover, of friends, and of partners, of people that I never wanted to lose, and damn day. It was about home. Home wasn’t a place, or a building, or a tropical night full of flowers and rain. Love made home not out of boards and walls and furniture, but of hands to hold, and smiles to share, and the warmth of that body cuddled around you in the dark.
comforting hands, our bodies that had made us all home, and the craziness of having too many people, too much going on, but what would we give up, who would we give up, and the answer, in the end, was not a single thing.
Love is never about the object of our love, but always says more about us than them.
no one knows you as honestly, warts and all, as the people who love you, truly love you.’
‘True love means you love the real person, not an ideal that you have in your head and superimpose over them.
I’d grown to understand that love, real love, is full of choices that make no sense, that should go horribly wrong, but you make the choice anyway. Why? Because love is different. 
I opened my mouth, closed it, and then shook my head. There was as sure where “here” was anymore.
Because I had had a nasty shock and was all emotionally vulnerable; that usually made me want to either run for the hills or get angry and stay angry.
You can experience trauma without getting stuck as the victim forever. You can choose to work the shit and rebuild yourself, or you can sit in the ruins and mourn forever. 
Sometimes there isn’t enough therapy in the world to fix a person, and that’s when you have to find another cure.
There are so few true villains, just other screwed-up people who pass the damage on.
The elderly will also begin to decline faster if they don’t have anyone to touch them. Patting someone’s hand, or shoulder, a hug, all of it is necessary to be happy and healthy for most people. It doesn’t have to have anything to do with sex; in fact, most of the touch that keeps us all going is as innocent as a newborn lamb frolicking on the spring grass,
the thought of how close I must have come to losing the man in my arms scared me more than anything else. Sex was not a fate worse than death, because with life there was always hope. Hope that the big breakup wasn’t permanent. Hope that the issues that drove you apart might bring you back together again. Hope that you’d see their smile again, even if they were with someone else. Only death was final, and without hope; short of that, there were options.
There’s a lot of ways to be smart; the kind that gets you straight A’s in school is only one way.
It was like someone who is so used to being made fun of that they say the mean things first, try to make it their joke, so the bullies don’t get a chance to cut them up. It works, in a way, but it means the person saying the words internalizes the message more, because they’re the ones saying stupid, clumsy, fat, ugly —whatever the bullies might say.
being in love makes people beautiful, and falling out of love makes you see the truth. It may set you free, but it’s going to fuck you up before it does.
It was like someone who is so used to being made fun of that they say the mean things first, try to make it their joke, so the bullies don’t get a chance to cut them up. It works, in a way, but it means the person saying the words internalizes the message more, because they’re the ones saying stupid, clumsy, fat, ugly —whatever the bullies might say.
being in love makes people beautiful, and falling out of love makes you see the truth. It may set you free, but it’s going to fuck you up before it does.
love could be a cup that you both filled up with love, kindness, joy, sex, all the things that made you a couple, but if you could fill the cup up, you could also drain it dry with cruelty, sorrow, pain, jealousy, and anger.
“Sorry, Damian, but it doesn’t make sense to me when I do it either. If something makes you happy you should just enjoy it and embrace it, but I’ve got a whole list of things that make me happy and I fought like hell not to enjoy them, not to want them, not to do them, because they didn’t match who I thought I was, or who I thought I should be.”
Just tell me what she’s done, Anita. That should be awful enough to help us appreciate whatever happiness we can find.
we must trust each other, for we are built link by link into a chain that is stronger together than as a pile of individual links.
Your first lover gets a piece of your heart until you have enough therapy to take it back.
But one thing I’d learned in therapy was that just because a feeling made no sense didn’t make you stop feeling it.
“As much as I’d prefer the world to be black and white, yes or no, right or wrong, Nicky’s right: Sometimes you can be both,”
Fear will bind you closer than love, or hate, and it works a hell of a lot quicker. 
So many traumatic events and your time sense screws up. Too much happening in too short a space of time.
The trick would be to decide whom to be grumpy at, and what to do about it.
I had been running on fear, adrenaline, and stubbornness for hours. In the quiet hush of the car I could feel my body. It was not happy.
The hour after dawn is the most private of all.
You’d think I’d get used to not knowing what the hell is going on, but I never do. It just makes me grumpy, and a little scared.
If you keep the gun in your purse, you get killed, because no woman can find anything in her purse in under twelve minutes. It is a rule.
Most people choose to think of themselves as white hats, good guys. A few people wear black hats and enjoy it. Grey was Bert’s color. Sometimes I think if you cut him, he’d bleed green, fresh-minted money.
There was something a little frightening about a man who knew he was not a nice person and didn’t give a damn. It went against everything America holds dear. We are taught above all else to be nice, to be liked, to be popular. A person who has set aside all that is a maverick and a potentially dangerous human being.
It takes real breeding to make a person feel like shit with one word.
When in doubt, change your vocabulary.
There was something a little frightening about a man who knew he was not a nice person and didn’t give a damn. It went against everything America holds dear. We are taught above all else to be nice, to be liked, to be popular. A person who has set aside all that is a maverick and a potentially dangerous human being.
there are days when I think you can’t save anyone.
When in doubt, take a deep breath and keep moving.
Murphy’s law is the only true dependable in my life most of the time.
I was the closest thing Edward had to a real friend. A person who knows who and what you are and likes you anyway. I did like him, despite or because of what he was.
He had bet his life on my integrity, and that pissed me off. I hate to be used. My virtue had become its own punishment.
Remember, no one can make you feel inferior without your consent.
We had saved each other’s lives; it is a bond that sticks with you.
Most hatred is based on fear, one way or another. Yeah. I wrapped myself in anger, with a dash of hate, and at the bottom of it all was an icy center of pure terror.
A zillion brownie points for me.
Women may get to wear lots of pretty colors, but men get the comfortable shoes.
You never really filled in the hole. It was like a piece of you gone goes away. You deal with it. You go on, but it’s there.
Only inhibitors in the brain prevent us all from destroying ourselves.
No one had ever attacked me at home before, not like this. It should have been against the rules. You should be safe in your own bed.
She had broken a rule. One I hadn’t even known I had. Thou shalt not attack the good guy in his, or her, own home.
Coffee was my comfort drink.
But I’ve been stared at by experts, so I was careful not to flinch.
Sarcasm is one of my natural talents.
Freud is so often at work in our lives.
Hope is a lying bitch.
It felt wet, like it had soaked through to the skin, but it hadn’t. It was a sensory illusion.
People are seldom just one thing.
There are fires that last for all eternity. Fires that make napalm look like a temporary inconvenience.
I notice all sorts of things that go unnoticed during most of life.
I could taste my calm, orderly pulse in my mouth like a piece of candy.
For tension release laughter beats the hell out of tears.
I had the urge to giggle, but that was the pain medication. I never giggle on my own.
some drugs don’t give a shit if you need your body. You belong to the drug until it wears off, period.
staying alive was the goal. Everything else was gravy.
Best friends, a concept that most women never outgrow.
If I ever managed to get married and my husband cheated on me, it wouldn’t be me to go missing.
If you’re not ashamed, you don’t need to look away.
hysteria gets you nowhere but dead.
Worry about the things you can control; the rest will either work themselves out, or they’ll kill you. Either way, no more worries.
you can be embarrassed or you can be aggressive.
Truth, justice, and the American way certainly didn’t work within the legal system. Money, power, and luck were what worked.
Anita. No matter what you do or how bad you feel about it, life just goes on. Life doesn’t give a fuck that you’re sorry or upset or deranged or tormented. Life just goes on, and you gotta go on with it, or sit in the middle of the road and feel sorry for yourself.
I never doubted God. I doubted me. But maybe God was a more generous God than I allowed him to be.
I felt that measure of calm that I sometimes got when I prayed. It doesn’t mean you’ll get what you asked for, but it does mean that someone is listening.
 If you can’t impress yourself, then no one else really matters. 
Why is it when you have a sure thing to bet on, there’s never anyone around to take your money?
it used to bother me that I could be in such confusion, such pain, and the world just didn’t give a shit. The world, the creation as a whole, is designed to move forward, to keep on keeping on without any one individual person. It feels damned impersonal, and it is. But, then, if the world stopped rotating just because one of us was having a bad day, we’d all be floating out in space.
I’d learned long ago that if you’re feeling unloved by the man in your life, the best revenge is to look good
“The heart wants what the heart wants, Dolph. You don’t plan on making your life complicated, it just happens, and you don’t do it on purpose, and you don’t do it to hurt the people who love you. It just turns out that way sometimes.”
I thought of several smart alec remarks, but you should humor crazy people when you’re at their mercy; it’s a rule.
You can’t shovel other people’s shit for them, not unless they’re willing to pick up a shovel and help.
There’s only so much emotional super glue in a person’s soul, after that everything just stays broken.
It was a little like being in shock. Shock is nature’s insulation, the thing that shuts you down so you can heal, or sometimes so you can die without hurting, or being afraid.
I guess you can’t undo all your upbringing, no matter how hard you try.
sometimes guilt or habit makes you listen to those other voices—the ones that beat you down. Sometimes you just can’t shake them. 
“You ate the living darkness, Anita. It has given your own necromancy a power jump of near-legendary proportions. You raised every cemetery and lone body in and around the city of Boulder, Colorado last year, while you chased down the spirit of the Lover of Death, one of the last members of the now-disbanded vampire council who did not bend knee to Jean-Claude’s rebellion.” “You say rebellion. I say killing crazy motherfuckers to save the world from their plans to spread vampirism and contagious zombie plague across the planet.” “It would have been an apocalypse for the human race.” “But not the apocalypse.” “You mean the biblical one?” he asked.  “Yeah, as in the apocalypse.” “You say that as if there is only one.” “There is only one.” “You have prevented two on your own. We have prevented more events that would have destroyed the planet, or at least the human population. Some of us lived through the last great extinction and the coming of the great winter.” “You mean the Ice Age, as in the real Ice Age.” He nodded. I took in a deep breath, let it out slow, and said, “Okay, some of you guys are old as fuck. Make your point.” “My point, Anita, is that apocalypse as in the great devastation or second coming of some religious significance has happened before and will likely happen again.” “I’m not sure we’re defining it the same way,” I said. “Perhaps not, but there really does need to be a plural for apocalypse .” 
A few years back I’d have argued until either we had a fight or the cows came home, but therapy had helped me realize that I could just let some things go.
Real love is about consistency over time, battles won, battles lost, the pain, the pleasure, the sharing. 
 Strength shared is strength multiplied.
She just looked happy, and nothing makes someone as beautiful as happiness and being in love. No makeup or youth serum can come close to that beauty secret.
Who wanted to be around a constant stream of negativity?
I knew he would shield me with his own body, and the strength that would have scared me under other circumstances now became the ultimate comfort. I knew that all that energy and strength was now aimed at keeping me safe. The difference between prince and beast is often just a matter of how a man uses his strength and rage. Aimed well, it is a shelter that you can hide behind no matter how great the storm. Turned against you, it makes shelter into a trap.

Sometimes you need to embrace the suck and just go along for the ride, but sometimes you need to tell whoever is making your life suck to stop being a dick and do better. Tyburn was now on my you-almost-killed-me-so-do-better-or-let-me-drive list
Part of wisdom is being honest with yourself,

#Sucker Punch #Anita Blake #LaurellKHamilton

Kelley Armstrong’s Alone in the Wild (rockton 5)

I will start this off with a few caveats: I received an ARC of this book from Netgalley in return for this review AND I am a Kelley Armstrong fan.  I have been a fan from the first time I was introduced to her in Bitten, and have followed her bodies of work avidly since then.  One of the things I love about her body of work is that she has a vision.  She stays true to that vision even when fans criticize her for it.  Sometimes, the vision isn’t immediately apparent but it is always there.  She also has a number of compelling stand alone novels that are unique and compelling.
I have greatly enjoyed the Rockton series and I was one of those who read the first book in installments.  The premise is unique and it seems like there are many ways for the story to advance over time.  I didn’t see that at the beginning, but now I do.  I have to say that once again Kelley Armstrong has delivered a compelling series with well rounded characters that will appeal to readers.    These multifaceted characters defy classification as heroes or villains.  It highlights the fact that everyone has both good and bad and must be evaluated on their own merits.  This is especially true of the residents of Rockton, where everyone is running from something.
I do not want to ruin any of the books by alluding to parts of the plot line that are spoilers for earlier books: so SPOILER ALERT (not for this book but for others in the Rockton series)!
When the series started, we followed Casey Duncan and her best friend Diana on the journey to Rockton a town in the Yukon that isn’t on any map.  It’s billed as a town for those who need to get away from something.  You have to cut off contact with everyone in your old life.  There will not be any contact once the decision to go is made.  A generic open end message will tell friends and loved ones that you will be out of touch and then you disappear when you get on the helicopter.  There can be no cellphones, no GPS, no email, not even an air-gapped computer.  The town itself is camouflaged by the terrain.  AND everything is controlled by the town; unless the council think it’s necessary you won’t be getting it.  Once you arrive you must contribute to the workings of the town.  Casey has a vital role as a homicide detective.  Even that is different in Rockton–there are no forensic teams to call.  Not having the internet to research forensics makes a large difference and there is no end to the challenges that Casey faces.  And getting used to life with less electricity isn’t a walk in the park either.
Once Casey arrived, she discovered there was a hidden underside to Rockton and to Diana who she thought she knew so well.  Turns out that Diana and her Abusive Ex-husband had stolen a large amount of money and that was why he kept turning up like a bad penny.  Being in a town without internet makes it easy for people to hide their true natures.  But all of that is another story, literally…so go read the first 4 books!
At the beginning of Alone in the Woods, Casey and Sheriff Eric Dalton are on a much needed vacation after all the truly daunting challenges they have faced in earlier.   Casey has had a steep learning curve sine she walked out to that helicopter so many moons ago.  But when Casey awakens alone in the camp with her Newfoundland puppy Storm and she hears what she thinks is a baby crying she doesn’t quite believe her ears.  When she finds a baby clutched to the chest of a murdered woman, it raises a number of issues.  The most immediate of which is that Rockton doesn’t admit children of any age.  Solving the mystery of how this baby came to be in the Yukon without any others in sight will be one of the toughest challenges Casey faces.  It will introduce a number of new characters into the world of Rockton.  And, seeing Sheriff Dalton with this newborn will cause Casey to face emotional pitfalls that surprise her and force both she and Eric to have a relationship talk Casey never thought to face.  Since I wholeheartedly hope you will read this book I will stop here.
I have enjoyed the journey with Rockton so far and I cannot wait to get my hands on book 6.  At the beginning, I was anxiously awaiting the next installment and I still am!  Seeing Casey settle into Rockton is a pleasure and seeing the world expand to include so many characters  reminds me of the early books of Otherworld.  Even more of a Kelley Armstrong fan even though this book kept me up all night!

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On a Night filled with Fear and Anxiety About So Much This Hit Me A Little Bit More Than Usual

I live in Florida and as I said in previous posts, every time a hurricane passes us by is a miracle and as I watched Harvey decimate Texas and Louisiana I was in equal parts inspired and appalled by the men and  women who joined together to help, taking any bit they had, be it boats or water, time or money, clothing or food… And appalled by those who made excuses for why they could not help, citing the water unsafe as there was no way to know what might be in them or difficulty in securing transportation or any other thing they could pull out of thin air…

Now we face another hurricane and it is poised to hit Florida and I find myself praying that this one passes us by, although that looks less and less likely as time passes.  I am watching my neighbors go insane, making runs on drugstores and supermarkets and discount clubs and I don’t know what to say or do about the insanity I am seeing but it is insanity on a grandiose scale or done large… 

And I am binge watching some TV shows as I look around my home wondering how I can take all the irreplaceable things in my home in hours if necessary, finding myself overwhelmed by the prospect of even trying to pack that bag. The wedding albums, my ketubah (the Jewish contract of marriage, of which there is literally one in all of the world as those who have signed in, most noticibly my husband and one of the witnesses, have died in the intervening years), the hours of videotapes from when the girls were born and of course the dog and all of his stuff… Do I take my high-school and college diplomas or the… The list goes on and on into perpetuity. Luckily, as much as it might kill me to lose the physical copies of my books, they exist somewhere on the cloud, so though I will lose their physical copies, I can enjoy them again with the digital versions. And so when a cover of this song played on the TV show that is the background upon which I ponder these questions it hit me harder than it usually would… Forever Young

May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
May you stay forever young

May you grow up to be righteous
May you grow up to be true
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you
May you always be courageous
Stand upright and be strong
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.

May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
And may your song always be sung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.

May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
May you stay forever young
May you stay forever young

And now I have to see if I can put my money where my mouth is. Can I believe that as long as my family and I are alive and together the rest of it, no matter how treasured, is irrelevant… I will pray that this storm passes us by and I don’t have to make those choices, but come what may all I can do is my best and hope that somehow it will be enough this time… Although all too often these days it is not…

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How you can Help…

I’m a reader-always have been. What does that mean? It means that from Kindergarten through eighth grade, my favorite day of the month was when the scholastic book order forms came in and then the day the books actually arrived. I always ordered way more than I could possibly read and lugging those boxes of books home was like the eighth night of hannukkah and my birthday all rolled into one…

When my children were younger, it meant reading books sometimes a word at a time, but I always had a book with me and I will admit to great pride that I finished any books at all with my children at toddler age. Now it means always having a book loaded on my phone to play or read every opportunity I get.

For me, books are a necessity. I cannot imagine a world without books. If something was wrong in my life, most times being swallowed into a story would make it better or at the very least put off the problem until I could find a solution. Reading gave me time to assimilate, a place where all my life’s problems could be put on a shelf for a while. I could visit fantastical worlds where magic and all things were possible. I could bear witness to amazing legal battles and see fancy balls from all the ages. I could see love triumph over incredible odds. There was no end to what I might find between the covers of a book.

As I have grown older and my burdens have become heavier, I have found that sometimes books bring me a simple distraction and I have also found that the characters in these books can become friends in a way. I am fully aware that the characters in my favorite books are fictional, but I worry over their lives as I would a friend. And I have found that having these books I love so very much has brought me some true friends along the way. Those friendships start with a conversation when we notice we are reading the same book or author and can develop into deep discussions and speculation.

And that love of books brought me to this blog. In reaching out to my favorite authors I found that they were struggling. Niche Publishing Houses had gone out of business, and the big publishing houses were mismarketing the books{marketing an urban fantasy book as a traditional romance, leaving the consumers of both urban fantasy and traditional romance unhappy)-so that when contract negotiations for more books began, the publisher could point to bad sales. The publishing house has complete control over when the books are released as well–and with a few different authors, they keep announcing dates, then pushing them back with no communication. That led to a number of angered fans, some of whom have sworn off the authors entirely. Also, some of the authors had felt very comfortable with the niche houses and so left broad areas in their contracts because of the level of trust that existed. Now those broad areas are leaving them with little contractual wigggle room, allowing the big houses to do many things without the authors input or consent. Bad pairings were being made between authors and editors which led to bad books and a loss of loyal fans.

A few of those authors told me that the best thing I can do to help is write reviews and generate buzz around their latest releases. This led me to this blog and now I am finding that I need to generate followers in order to get electronic ARC’s so I can create bigger buzz leading up to the release of the books.

So, I need your help. First, find my facebook link at the end of this post and like the page. There is also a twitter account associated with the blog. In order to raise my Search Engine rankings, please search for my website address in whichever search engine you use whenever you have a chance.

If you should decide to buy one of the books or anything else, try using one of my amazon links so I get a small commission. Or leave a donation using the link below-every little bit helps!

I look forward to discussing all of this with fellow fans at my site bestbooklover.net and at the Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/BestBookLover/

If you want to support the blog and keep getting great content make a donation at paypal.me/Bestbooklover/

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An explanation of why I’m bouncing off the walls Until May 2nd (Hurry up and preorder NOW)

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This is taken verbatim from https://mmgoodbookreviews.wordpress.com/2017/04/25/quickening-vol-1-by-amy-lane-blog-tour-guest-post-excerpt/

How It All Began

by Amy Lane

So I know for a lot of people, the “big deal” of Quickening’s release is sort of lost.

Amy writes lots of books. Lots of big books. So?

And let’s face it—this one’s got a girl on the cover, and, yes, well, girls on the cover of an author known for her gay male romance work does not inspire a lot of “HUZZAH!”

But, like with everything, there is a story…

So, once upon a time there was an English teacher who felt compelled to go back to school to get her master’s degree. Why?  Well, it was unclear even then. All of her peers were doing it, and it appeared to be the only way to get any income mobility and…

Whatever.

Everybody else was getting their MA in education, the better to become administration, but this particular English teacher wouldn’t touch administration with a barge pole. Ugh. Gross. No.

But learn more about her subject matter? Holy Goddess YES!

So she took a bunch of different classes—an entire semester on Hamlet, anyone? And finally decided that creative writing was where she wanted to be.

And she was in this class, loving it, when some asshole dropped a couple of planes on some buildings in New York, and she had a big epiphany: She’d left her two young children at home during her school time, and they were only six and eight at the time, and she didn’t want to spend her precious moments taking classes to make a quota, she wanted to spend her time with them.

So she dropped out of the master’s program—but she kept writing.

Three and a half years later she self-published the book she’d started during that time in the master’s class. It felt like self-aggrandizement mostly—the master’s project was a finished novel, and hey, she’d done that, so even if she didn’t have the piece of paper to prove it, she had Vulnerable.

This was back when self-publishing was in its infancy, and our English teacher made a LOT of mistakes—a lot of them surprisingly enough, in English.

This was back during a DARK period in language instruction. A time called “whole language” learning—when it was considered unprofessional for an English teacher to so much as request a grammar textbook to teach her students how to write English with any sort of proficiency. They were supposed to just “absorb” that knowledge from the books they read.

For the record—it didn’t work.

Also?

It destroyed this particular English teacher’s basic knowledge of grammar and punctuation—all she was reading at the time was student papers.

Which meant when her masterpiece came out, there were some really fucking embarrassing errors all over the goddamned manuscript.

But she didn’t care. Because seriously. How many people were going to read something she wrote?  She worked in an extremely misogynistic environment—none of the people in her staff room would so much as let her finish a sentence. She grew up with people who thought she was too stupid to finish college in the first place—and were really confused as to why she’d take master’s classes in something that wouldn’t get her more money just because she hated the job.  Her students thought she was okay—but it was an inner-city school, and the ones who didn’t think she was okay told her she was a dumbfuck twat on a daily basis, and her administration didn’t really think that was too bad on the whole.

Her children—whom she adored—both had their own difficulties in school. Obviously her fault, because what did she do wrong to produce a kid with a communication handicap and one with a skewed, Eyeore view of life, even at six?

Nobody would read this book. (Except her outstanding and wonderful Mate.) Nobody would care. It was her accomplishment, and hers alone, and she was really proud of it.

And she was proud of the next one, and the next one, and the one after that. For six years, her Christmas gift from her husband was a chance to self-publish the book she’d written that year between kids and school and soccer and dance and karate and, oh, hey, giving birth to two more children for a total of four.

And then, one day, someone on Twitter asked for a short fic—just a short fic—based on a video of some really hot guys and a dirty guitar riff, and she wrote it, just for fun…

And these people—this publishing company—loved it.

In fact, they had read her books. They loved her stories. They thought she was worthwhile—they wanted to see what else she could write.

And her love affair with writing purely gay romance began.

Now, the last thing she’d written on her own had been the fourth book in her first series—Rampant.

And she’d dropped a helluva bomb at the end of that book. A sort of, uh, BIG cliffhanger. Or two.

And just when her writing career in gay romance took off, her teaching career took a HUGE, devastating, killing hit—and yes, the two things were very closely connected.  So suddenly, writing gay romance became the thing she absolutely had to do.

It became her livelihood.

And finishing that series—ending that cliffhanger—that became the last thing on her list.

So… what does this have to do with Quickening?

Seven years ago I wrote a book that ended with a teeny-tiny-itty-bitty sorceress being told some VERY BIG GINORMOUS LIFE CHANGING NEWS.

And people have been waiting to see how that comes out. For seven years.

So I’m going to be writing some blog posts about this book in the next week—and I’m going to be WAY more excited about its release than I think my community is going to be.

But that’s okay—because the first book was something I wanted to do for myself. And this book was a promise I kept to all the people who thought that first book was something special, something that resonated with them, and took the time to tell me that my voice—the one that seemed to be raised desperately unheard for so long—was really important to them.

So it’s possible Quickening isn’t going to take the gay romance world by storm.

But I’m so happy that it’s out, I’m could actually cry.

If you’re interested in the books that started it all, start with Vulnerable—it’s been re-edited and recovered, as have all of the original books in the series.

If you’re a fan of the series already, and you’ve been waiting for the last seven years—you’re the best. Period. I couldn’t have done the last twelve years without you.

Amy

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Quickening, volume 1 Book Cover




Quickening, volume 1




Little Goddess (Book 5)





Amy Lane





DSP Publications




(May 2, 2017)




316 pages

Little Goddess: Book Five
Volume One

Cory thought she’d found balance on Green's Hill—sorceress, student, queen of the vampires, wife to three men—she had it down!  But establishing her right to risk herself with Green and Bracken had more than one consequence, and now she’s facing the world's scariest job title: mother.

But getting the news that she’s knocked up takes a back seat when a half-elf hunts them down for help. Her arrival brings news that the werewolf threat, which has been haunting them for over a year, has finally arrived on their doorstep—and it’s bigger and more frightening than they’d ever imagined.

Cory throws herself into this new battle with everything she’s got—and her men let her do it. Because they all know that whether they defeat this enemy now or later, the thing she's most afraid of is arriving on a set schedule, and not even Cory can avoid it.  The trick is getting her to acknowledge she's pregnant before she gives birth—or kills herself in denial.

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Curse the Dawn ch24-25

windsurfingthroughhell:

Time to cry over CtD some more! It’s funny this is one of those books I don’t reread all that much (unlike htm which I can nearly recite by heart) so I’ve forgotten how really really good it is. I’m just enjoying it so much:

-chapter 24 – where do I start with this one? Rosier siccing the rakshasas on his kid and then wondering why he’s a great father, ummmm, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?? Pritkin, once again trying to sacrifice himself for Cassie, that boy has a complex  (side note: I love how KC follows through on things – she makes it very clear that Pritkin has something of a saviour complex, where Cassie is concerned anyway and it ultimately gets him killed. His sacrifice in HtM was actually super predictable and we really ought to have seen something like it coming. I mean, “It was the only reasonable course of action,” FOR REAL, who says that after almost getting themselves killed??). Plus, we have sudden, out of nowhere Casskin making out, which is essentially what I live for. Like most of the body swap stuff it’s simultaneously weird and sexy. Cassie is essentially getting to see the effect she normally has on Pritkin, and well, it’s hot. The ley line car chase is KC’s usual brand of breakneck pace, humour and adrenaline. I love how even Pritkin is freaked out by the whole thing.

– chapter 25 – I’m gonna have a stroke, there’s so much going on here. Marsden’s dog trying to attack Mircea. Mircea hugging Pritkin-in-Cassie’s-body. Cassie-in-Pritkin’s-body accidentally swearing at Mircea and pissing him off. Mircea pulling Pritkin-in-Cassie’s-body out of the room, presumably for some relieved reunion cuddles and from the sounds of things, gets slapped or kneed in the nuts or sth. Marlowe, dressed up and ready to party, wandering around offering everyone booze. Cassie talking shit  in front of everyone: “What? You like wearing a bra?” Serious note – hasn’t Saunders turned up early? Cassie’s been saying all day that her meeting with Saunders is ‘tomorrow’ but this is still today right?? I’m confused. Less serious note – Marlowe trying to provoke Pritkin is one of the many many joys in these books, they should wrestle it out again. There could be some kind of oil involved … Uh, moving on. “Renegotiate this!” Epically silly line, 10/10, would put in trailer for movie adaptation which is sadly never gonna happen. Mircea kissing Cassie-in-Pritkin’s-body – either he’s very relieved that Cassie’s okay or he’s always secretly wanted to make out with Pritkin a little bit. I mean, who hasn’t?

So, Fist I have to say thank you to @windsurfingthroughhell for posting these awesome summaries on the reread.  I suck at writing summaries.  I discovered this when I tried to do a timeline for the Anita Blake series cause I kept getting confused.  The software i used https://www.tiki-toki.com/ is amazingly awesome, But the free account only allows a certain number of entries.  And by the time I got to the 4 or 5 Anita Blake books, I had hit the max.  Which was totally insane.  And those of you who saw my attempts for the  Cassandra Palmer series, know I get lost in all the stuff.

I am hoping someone will make a  Cassandra Palmer timeline for us all to share at https://www.tiki-toki.com/ since I already used my freebie, and that thing took weeks of work, so I don’t care if its incomplete, I ain’t deleting it.

SO, my original point is that I keep responding to these posts, cause it keeps me from dancing merrily along to my tangential brains music…So, I am not arguing points or tearing anyone down, OK?  Just adding my two cents, and if I get a little vehement, it’s only because all of these characters mean something to me, even FRED for god’s sake…

From the beginning, Rossier confuses the shit out of me.  So, the fact that Rossier, who hates Artemis and Cassie with a vehemence, is the vehicle through which Apollo is taken down is just Fucking Priceless.  I think the fact that Rossier has antipathy towards Cassie and always jumps to “let’s kill her” is odd.  I mean, theoretically he has been waiting all these years for SOMEONE to break through Pritkin’s self hatred and walls.  But from the moment Cassie shows up, well its weird.  It keeps getting weirder.

These chapters are my favorite part.  We see so much stuff.  It hard to even begin listing it or really digest it.  I love Cassie, and its hysterical to see the vampires out of their element, the mages out of theirs and god so much more. I mean, theoretically they are all supposed to be working together but no one knows anyone else’s plan, they don’t even know who is who!

And seeing Kit Marlowe, spy extraordinaire still fucking lost-it just makes me giggle.  I mean they are fighting gods, with Cleopatra and Jack the Ripper and all Marlowe can do is hand out drinks.  He’s the stewardess on this flight to Ragnorak…And he keeps hitting his goddamned head, which is so fucking unfair. And he knows something is up with Pritkin, cause he isn’t responding right, but in his defense who’s first thought would be “That must be the pythia’s soul in the war mages body because of a chaos loving buddhist type god”? (Since we are on a reread, I will also say that I love it when Cassie and Mircea end up arguing in Marlowe’s office later, and he’s all “there is a god and he loves me”)  As a second aside, does anyone else want to know how Marlowe’s ties to the witches just up and disappeared?

And then you add in the triple D’s and Apollo and running up how many goddamned floors with Prtikin in a dress?

And yeah I REALLY want Karen to write the Pritkin Pov of what happens in that bedroom between Cassie’s body, Pritkin’s Soul, and Mircea!  Damnit, maybe there will be another event or opportunity to bring that up at some point when Karen has contracts for more books, and is looking for an idea…Sigh, who am I kidding?  I don’t have the money to buy a swag bag, let alone…oh well, I digress

And when Mircea kisses Cassie in Pritkin, just WOW.  I mean I know sexuality is probably mutable but still, to love someone’s soul so much that it transcends the physical…sigh again!

Anyways, I could go on forever, but who wants to read that?  SO, thank you for giving me talking points and tell me where I’m wrong.  I keep trying to do reread posts, but I read too fast and even though I am rereading the same stuff, each time i get a little bit different stuff.






Curse the Dawn Book Cover




Curse the Dawn





Karen Chance





Fiction




Penguin UK




April 2, 2009




400

Cassie Palmer, the world's chief clairvoyant, just can't seem to stay away from trouble. After trying to come to an agreement with the Silver Circle - the magical organisation that's been trying to kill her for years - she finds herself kidnapped by one of its members and swept away in the ley line system, a series of magical currents that occupies the space between worlds. Cassie manages to escape but, fearing for her safety, she decides to invest in a magical device for protection. However, all she can afford is a statue that grants wishes ...But what Cassie doesn't realize is that the statue doesn't always grant wishes the way the wisher would like. And when she wishes for the strength to shift herself and companion Pritkin away from a dangerous fight, the statue grants the wish by switching her into Pritkin's body and him into hers. And that's when the real trouble starts ...

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CtD, ch18-20

windsurfingthroughhell:

Time for another cvgr speed commentary, body swap edition. The body swap is definitely my favourite part of this book and possibly one of my all time favourite sequences in the entire series. I’d pay big money for Pritkin’s POV while he was in Cassie’s body (if only Karen was on Patreon or something …) because this whole thing is just so funny, so messed up and touching and weirdly sexy at times. Pretty much typical Cassie Palmer right?

– chapter eighteen – Cassie’s initial reaction to Pritkin in her body is pretty hysterical. “I sounded like a very pissed off little girl.” Pritkin’s reaction to being in the wrong body is probably close to what mine would be like – shocked, appalled etc. His accent staying more or less the same makes sense I guess? Accents aren’t necessarily ingrained at a muscle memory level, we can change them very easily. Him keeping any metaphysical abilities he has, like good shields etc also makes sense because we know they’re a mental manipulation of the body’s magic.

– chapter nineteen – much and all as I love that Pritkin kicks ass even when in Cassie’s body – why is it so hot when he shoots people?? I definitely have issues – I would question the fact that his hand-eye coordination seems to have transferred along with his spirit. Cassie’s aim is far to bad to take that many people out with that kind of precision, right? I guess they were in close enough quarters that it didn’t matter. Anyway, I like our introduction to Jonas Marsden. It’s appropriately off key. I also like the way KC prepares the way for important introductions like this long before they ever happen – in Jonas’ case, we’ve already heard about him back in CbS. This is why I never trust what seems like random rambling, or irrelevant details in these books because they always, always come back in some way. This chapter also features the usual top Casskin banter – their arguments about the coffee and the training sessions are so fricking married, like for real, get a room.

– chapter twenty – more Casskin marriedness, their every interaction kills me. Cassie rubbing Pritkin’s back while he gets sick is just so weirdly cute? I mean I know it’s a pretty gross situation, but that’s what makes it so couple-y, that rather than being grossed out at all by Pritkin throwing up, Cassie’s instinct is to take care of him. Everything they do HURTS ME. ALSO ALSO I am not the only one who thinks they’re acting like a couple because Jonas very obviously thinks they’re together, see how surprised he is when Cassie doesn’t want to share a bed with Pritkin. More reasons to love the body swap – the classic line, “No Miss Palmer, what is bizarre is that I currently have a vagina.” I’ve been laughing at that comment since 2009. But great and all as that moment is, nothing but NOTHING will ever top Cassie waking up in Pritkin’s body with a hard on. Her panic at the whole situation is so completely believable and entirely hilarious, but at that the same time, it’s a weirdly erotic scene. She’s just so aware of his body, it brings out her latent attraction to him: “He’d be strong” is so hot I might evaporate. Also, we should start doing a group read drinking game – take a sip every time Cassie describes Pritkin’s hands, take a shot every time she talks about how green his eyes are and finish your drink if she mentions his hair being soft and/or terrible. Or maybe we should not play that game, because it sounds like a quick route to alcohol poisoning. For real though, Cassie has SUCH a crush, it’s killing me. And to top it all off, Pritkin knows exactly what she’s suffering and he thinks it’s hilarious. What a little bastard, I love him.

Ok, SO I know you are in love with Pritkin.  I get that.  I’m all for anyone who connects with the story in any way.  But I have a little bit of a different read on all this.  SO rather than assume that everyone knows whats going on in my head, I’m gonna spell it out.

Cassie is a young woman.  And despite the fact that she is pretty kick ass even from the beginning she hasn’t had a lot of experience with men.  Remember, that her very first sexual experience is IN Louis-Caesar.  and he was already, um, well very engaged in the sex act.  The geis has made sure that she’s married and has to have a three way with two people- I just said that sentence three times and it still doesn’t sound right, before she has had a chance to find her sexual feet.  

And Cassie didn’t start off in the “easy” dating pool-oh no she had to go for the biggest, baddest, most combustible men- First there’s Tomas, although he is pretty tame by comparison to the later love interests, he is a first level vamp, who was strong enough to play human for Cassie for 6 months and challenge the CONSUL of THE LATIN AMERICAN SENATE.  And he is her first sexual partner, although its rushed and co-opted by Apollo.  Then, there’s Mircea Basarab who has been the right arm of the Consul for a very long time-and it goes back to when he was a Prince in Romania.  And if you read Masks, he trained to become a great lover of vampires.

And, John Pritkin is half incubus too.  And he has had lots of experience before Rossier got his hands on her.  SO for Cassie, this body swap is in many ways a revelation.  It’s the first time that she has a sexual experience that is free of the heavyweights that are in her bed.  She doesn’t even get to masturbate without participation with Mircea via his mind skills.  And suddenly, shes in a male body.  And she gets to explore it, without anyone else rushing her,  

But even that gets ruined by Pritkin’s knowing smile and interruption.  SO I look at it as more about Cassie.  And damn does she deserve the time to learn about pleasure- although from inside one of the men is a little bit weird but hey it’s a pythia thing!  And what I loved most about the whole body swap was the whole thing AFTER they got back to Dante’s.  When Mircea kisses Cassie in Pritkin’s body….and the whole battle confusion and the run through the wild west and the way the body swap fucks Saunders up…

So that’s my two cents.  Sorry if you don’t like it.  Tell me where I’m wrong, ok?

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Some Thoughts on Cassie

So, I got two of my friends who read the same kind of stuff that I do to start the Karen Chance books.  And they, of course love them…But, they are working their way slowly though them.  They have almost caught up to the reread. They obviously don’t compulsively read like I do.  I swear to g-d text to speech was an evil invention.  I used to have to put the book down to do things like brush my teeth, wash my hair, or cook.  Now, I have headphones or a stupid bluetooth speaker.  Although it does allow my children to get more regular meals that DO NOT revolve around Laurell K Hamilton or Karen Chance’s publishing schedule…

So, I keep getting these hysterical texts as things happen in the Cassie Palmer world.  From random questions to OMG.  And of late, I’ve been getting a lot of the OMG variety.  They have gotten to the geis and the trip to Fairie.  And then to the final duel with Dracula.  And I found myself laughing last night at the following text:

OMG Bram Stoker was a Human Servant! WTF! Then, awww so the incubus waited all that time for Dracula? How sweet

My response to the last was Have you ever read Dracula? OK, not sure where I was going with all that…Just chalk it up to my random tangent

But back to my original message, or at least thought.  Cassie is not a victim. Sometimes, we forget that she ran away at 14 and returned, of her own volition, to make Tony pay.  And then lived in a house with Vampires while she worked tirelessly to destroy what Tony loved most: his money.  And hid it.  And then ran with government protection.  She survived the death of her governess.  and then ran successfully for three years.  I gotta say, she’s got some chops.  That’s at the beginning.

She’s got a voice and she learns to use it.  Everyone wants control of her, but somehow, she ends up with a family that includes everyone from the crazy incubus Cassanova to Marco to Pritkin to, yes, Mircea!  She takes the guards who come to her and makes them HERS.  Cassie is never going to be Agnes.  Agnes was raised in the system and a part of it.  And her life was compartmentalized, even though she fell in love with her body guard, Jonas.  and oh what a love that must have been-  Ley line racing and trips though time.  But when we see Agnes in other times, she’s alone.  And a secret pregnancy to boot!  Cassie knows how to hide.  She knows how to run.  She knows how to win. 

Yes, she sometimes gets buffeted by the strong winds of the personalities around her.  And remember, we are in her head.  And sometimes we get her insecurities bleeding through.  But no matter what comes, she copes as best she can.  And that’s better than 99% of the population!  She learns, she quietly assimilates.  She fucking conquers!  Her life is messy.  I can’t see her making her life fit in boxes.  I can’t see her without Mircea’s family, which is becoming hers.  I have this image in my head of some of the mansions in Vegas.  The really awesome ones that have every possible luxury and themed bedrooms.  Almost like an MTV tricked out house for Real World.  But I can’t see Cassie, Tami and the kids from the schools living quietly in the suburbs with a mixed security force of vamps and mages.  I don’t know where I see her, but…

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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…

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maggiemhm:

ivegotalovelybunchofhannahnuts:

tooiconic:

od-kahane-chai:

The goddamn Apple Store is so fucking trendy these motherfuckers don’t even use cash registers anymore. Like holy shit why would I ever want to wait in line to pay for my immensely overpriced lightning bolt-to-usb cable, when I can wander around aimlessly looking for the one bearded top knot in the grey shirt who happens to have a card reader attached to his free iPhone 6? Literally fucking walked up a dude and was like ‘Yo where’s the till?’ And guy looks at me straight in the fucking face and says, ‘Oh well, there should be one or two people walking around on either side of the store who can process your payment.’ ALL OF YOU DRESS EXACTLY THE SAME! Am I supposed to accost every single goddamn one of you until I finally find the one goddamn fucking anthropomorphisized Mac Computer who is willing to let me pay for this shit? And when I finally find the dude and let him tap his shit against the box that I’m trying to purchase, of course he gives me the smuggest fucking smile I’ve ever seen on a human face and asks, ‘Would you like to use Apple Pay?’ Like GOOD LORD can we please just take a step outside of your möbius fucking circle jerk and let me hand you fifteen pounds in cash? Cash money? Real fucking physical fucking tender? No it’s okay, I don’t need a fucking receipt. What, you mean you’re going to print me a real receipt? A physical receipt that I can carry in my pocket? You’re not gonna beam it to my fucking wrist? You’re not going to send it via dropbox to an undisclosed fucking IP Address where I have to complete a CAPTCHA and accept your terms and conditions for the one millionth time in order to check that, yes, I did just spend £20 pounds and 45 minutes on a thin wire made of plastic and metal that’s gonna break in a month anyway? I JUST DONT UNDERSTAND THIS PLANET ANYMORE

This is a masterpiece.

@ahstruxnohtrum
@maggiemhm This would be V at an Apple Store.

I love V’s new anti-apple blog 👌🏼👏🏼👌🏼👏🏼

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