That is what I discovered the difference between an Urban Fantasy with romance/sex and a true Paranormal Romance. The PR has to have a Happily Ever After. In Arcanum Faire, I just make sure that multiple characters get their Happy Endings. Not in enough graphic detail for some, too much for others. The same hit and miss with power tool content, horrific images, and Eleazar’s humor.
I’d like to think I give all my readers a little bit of something besides a frisson of disgust.
As of March 26th, I am giving you “Power Tools in the Sacred Grove” on the cheap. Following the example of the first book of the series, ebook two will be available for 99 cents until March 29th. At that point, it will go up to $1.99 and then go up to full price on April 2.
If you enjoyed the first book, this will give you a chance to continue the series. If you didn’t like the book, I don’t know what to say.
Be safe and sequestered out there.
After nearly three months of chemotherapy, my mind has snapped. A series of annoying side effects, not nearly as devastating as the ones I’d heard of in my youth, nevertheless stacked upon each other to be a monumental Pain in the Ass. Because of the Malignant Pain in my Ass.
So I wrote a song:
One great thing the Disney enterprise discovered is their method of monetizing experience. Every exhibit, ride, Hell half of restrooms exit through a gift shop. The happy family still have their heads buzzing with whatever Disney presentation that has bombarded them. Their hearts are light, as is their grip on their money. Happy people go home with mouse ears, t-shirts, enameled pins, and coffee table books. Disney Corp collects enough money to buy another entertainment franchise or a small foreign country.
Now, I am no Walt Disney, but I have written some really fun books. When I got the rights back to them early last year, I commissioned new covers from an artist friend of mine, Seth Lyons. The covers are excellent and capture the quirky nature of the stories far more than the foreboding, horror-oriented images of the original edition. I paid him handsomely and secured all rights to the images.
Once again, everybody’s happy.
You can’t just leave images like that languishing on the covers of trade paperbacks. They need a new exciting life as t-shirts, mouse pads, coffee mugs, and slivovic’ flasks. Don’t consider this greed as much as a way to provide an extremely small enterprise an income flow while providing fans tangible reminders of the experience they got from my books. Consider the reprints and ancillary merchandising as a retirement plan for my twilight years. That could be next Tuesday, if I don’t watch myself.
Everybody’s happy, right?
If you like my books, and you like the art, consider stopping over to the “My Store” page and link over to the Cafe Press shop I have started. There are even “Squirrel in a Blender” bumper stickers for fans of “Squirrel Apocalypse”. Take a look and shop carefully.
Still in the middle of chemo and the tank’s a little dry.
So, just reminding you that this day comes only once every four years. So your social media will ignore what you did today for another three years. Make a leap today out of your comfort zone. I won’t tell anybody.
“This calls for a truly stupid act!” battle cry of Chameleon, leader of the Fighting Lizards.
Happy Imbolc, Candlemas, or St. Brigid’s Day. It’s one of the pagan high holidays that’s been absorbed into folk tradition and religion. A time for light in the darkness and looking to the future. First fire from the hearth or first water from the well gifts a maiden with a vision of their future husband. People in North America obsess on the predictive skills of large rodents. I look forward to the halfway point in my chemotherapy.
Things are looking dark, Warriors of Every Stripe, but the advantage of reaching Things Can’t Get Any Worse (For Goddess’ Sake, don’t say that out loud. The universe takes it as a challenge.) is you also hit Things Can Be Made Better. I won’t blow smoke up you skirts, but things aren’t as dark as we fear.
Speaking of darkness, this is my latest blipvert for Power Tools in the Sacred Grove, where Jeremiah leaves a phone message from the Great Beyond.
This is just what we kept saying the last time we saw “Ready or Not.”
Whether it is economics, depression, gender dysphoria, or a super-abundance of squirrels, everyone has their battles. Keep your heads up, Warriors of Every Stripe, but always be aware of the nearest shelter.
It’s a dark time of year, a time when we are seeing more dark than light in a lot of ways, Warriors of Every Stripe. In stead of focusing on that, I’ll pet my ‘mews’, the black cat named Yule that sits at my right and post this little bit of fun. Enjoy and remember those on the other side of the veil who might come visiting tonight.
Some say the world will end in fire, some say it will be ice. Nobody ever mentioned squirrels.
Forgive my absence for most of this month. When not getting myself irradiated, dealing with chemo, or simply napping, I have been putting all my writing energy into my WIP. Fortunately, my publisher Hydra Publications and I set something in motion before I got sick and it comes out today!
“Squirrel Apocalypse” started out just as goofy screenplay exercise: Lost Boys/Nightwings with Squirrels. Circumstances beyond my control forced me to transition it to a novel, though it is still just as ridiculous as when I started. Here’s a little about it:
Chris Day had a perfect life… when he was twelve years old. Twenty years later, he is divorced, unemployed, and desperate to get through to his twelve year daughter, Liv. He hopes his grandmother’s dairy farm in Crickson, California will be a good place to start a new life. Chris spent his boyhood summers in mischief and squirrel-launching there with his two best friends, Olivia and Rafael.Today, the dairy farmers grow marijuana to make ends meet, and the local radio station broadcasts the movements of the DEA to help them stay one step ahead. His grandmother’s obsession with squirrels has turned to a crusade of extermination. Olivia and Rafael are still in town, but nothing like the kids he dreamed of coming back to. Liv is sneaking out of the house late at night and Grandma has a collection of squirrel torture porn and homemade explosives. Pets and livestock are disappearing at an increasing rate. You really can’t go home again, especially when it’s being eaten by GMO killer squirrels.
We won’t be able to do a release party until after my surgery, I’m sure, but everyone can chow down on fresh-baked cookies, milk, and squirrel jerky in their own homes to celebrate. If you do, I want pictures.