Writer & Cat

How To Respond To Negative Reviews, Take 2

2012-01-26T05:52:00.000-08:00

Meankitty does appreciate what is in your heart, scorned writer.

That being said, Meankitty would like you to keep in mind that a book is not a baby, because babies eventually grow up to be two-leggers who can open the fridge for you while books are just things that take a human's attention away from what is important: cats.

Sincerely,
Meankitty & JW
www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

How To Respond To Negative Reviews, Take 1

2012-01-25T06:44:00.000-08:00

Much ado has been made and continues to be made about how artists should or should not respond to reviews of their work. The first artist who responded publicly to a poor review of his work was A. Non, who wrote Beowulf. It is reported that, when criticisms from a particular sect of useless cavedwellers who could barely rub two sticks together to make fire objected to the overuse of the phrase "whale's road", not to mention all that damned alliteration, that Non got all his club waving buddies to go to their cave and trash it. However, as with all reports heard twenty-thousandsth-hand, it's best to take such stories with a grain of salt. Likely the club wavers just said mean stuff from several yards outside the cave.

Anyway, I'm writing today because Meankitty wants to make some helpful suggestions for authors confused by their inner demons, by their friends, by their instincts, by their end stinks, and by conflicting advice as to how to respond to negative reviews. Here is her first suggestion, presented without comment:

Sincerely,

Jody W. & Meankitty
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Meankitty Wants to Know: Cynthia Woolf

2012-01-23T03:29:00.000-08:00

Author Cynthia WOOLF (www.cynthiawoolf.com) is our interviewee today, despite the fact that a name like Cynthia BENGAL would probably be a lot cooler and more automatically lucrative. I saw it written somewhere that authors with feline sounding names make 18% more money than authors without feline sounding names and 30% more money than authors with dog sounding names. Where did I see it written? In the rough draft of this blog post! (Pictured: Alfie from www.meankitty.com, a handsome and enthusiastic BENGAL cat.)

Ms. Woolf has a new release involving space pirate about which we offer some helpful advice below.

Despite Ms. Woolf having some obvious handicaps with her name and all, plus a husband who is not fond of the furred kingdom, we did find her an obliging interview victim. Read on!

1) Why did you decide to be a writer instead of a cat sanctuary owner?

Unfortunately I'm not zoned for a cat sanctuary so I had to go with my second choice.

2) Why is your household currently deprived of a cat?

My poor husband is allergic to cats and dogs and guinea pigs, anything with hair/fur. I'm still wondering why he's not allergic to me.

3) Why do you think cats are better than dogs? If you like, you can also tell us how cats are better than roommates, husbands, wives, spouses, etc.

Cats are much better than dogs because they don't need entertaining. Cats are regal, they are quiet, they are small and sleek.

4) Tell me about the felines in your fiction. How often do they appear and how big a part do they play in your narratives?

I don't have any felines in my fiction except a barn cat that has just had eight kittens. Poor mommy.

5) On the off-chance you have yet to incorporate cats into your fiction, when or how do you plan to rectify this egregious error and demonstration of poor writing skills? Might I suggest a space cat?

I will consider putting a space cat in my current work.

Meankitty's note: OBVIOUSLY a certain heroine in the following book + excerpt is an ode to cats: http://www.cynthiawoolf.com/books-centaurimidnight.php

6) What are your favorite works of fiction or cinema involving cats or favorite fictional cats?

My favorite cat movie is the original That Darn Cat with Haley Mills and Dean Jones. Then there's the Nine Lives of Thomasina.

7) Do you have any amazing, or at least humorous, real life cat stories you'd like to share? Barring cat stories, you may share stories about dogs embarrassing themselves if you like.

My niece had a cat that liked to sleep on her bar stool. But Rascal would forget he was on the stool and stretch, then fall off. It was always a surprise to him.

8) I heard that people who are allergic to cats can still tolerate a weird but wonderful Sphinx kitty. Have you and your hubby looked into getting a Sphinx to rule your house? Don't you think a space cat would look a lot like a Sphinx?

I don't think I could tolerate a Sphinx kitty. I like my kitties to be furry. But I do believe you are correct in that a Sphinx kitty would be perfect as a space kitty.

9) Did you know it's been clinicially proven (by me) that writers with cats make more money and are happier in general? What, in addition to a Sphinx, would make you happier as a writer?

I would love it if everything I wrote was magically perfect the first time and I didn't have to edit it and re-edit and re-edit. Unfortunately, editing is the bane of my existence.

10) How do you think a Sphinx would improve your writing schedule?

I don't know that a Sphinx kitty would improve my writing schedule at all, except that it might make me take more much needed breaks so I could rub its belly and scratch it behind the ears.

***

Below, why don't you all make some suggestions about how cats will evolve in the future and become space cats? Or by "space cats" do you just picture a cat from another dimension or planet who now has interstellar capabilities?

Sincerely,
Meankitty & Typing Slave
www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

Snippet Saturday: Friends

2012-01-21T03:41:00.000-08:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday's snippet is friends. As such, I'm going to post an excerpt about friends FROM a friend of mine, Inez Kelly! That's like twice the friends. Inez is a romance writer, often writing very hot romance, and the excerpt today is from a best friends to lovers story called TURN IT UP.

***

“Charlie, have you ever wondered what might have happened if I wasn’t married when we met?”

She loved his voice, so deep and rich, with just enough silk in it to make her quiver. It carried across the radio waves like water in a brook. Just a word or a phrase in his gilded tone and she wanted to melt like butter in July.

He was the poster child for the All-American classic male. One look told you his life story. Football hero, baseball captain, Young Republican’s Club and med school whiz. He’d married his college sorority-sweetheart and set out to live the picture-perfect life.

But nobody was perfect and dreams crumbled. Charlie had been there when his did and helped him hold it together. That was what a friend did. That and they never crossed that invisible boundary.

Had she wondered what might have happened if he’d been single? No, she’d always known.

“It’s pretty easy to figure out. We’d have become sizzling hot but temporary lovers and missed out on something really great. The chemistry’s always been there. But lovers are a dime a dozen. Friends that last are priceless.”

“Maybe we would’ve been different.”

Jazz. His voice was jazz, invoking images of steamy nights, moist skin and rolling hips. Had she fantasized about him? Hell, yeah. Long ago she’d trained herself to stop actively imagining his hands on her bare skin or his mouth pressed to hers. Snippets and flashes snuck in, of course, but she always shrugged them off. Being his lifelong friend meant more to her than getting naked and sweaty for a while.

Bastian wanted a woman forever. It was in his makeup, his genes. Charlie didn’t do forever where men were concerned.

She preferred hard, intense sex and lots of it. Sex had intrigued her from her first time with Bobby Mason in his father’s Ford. It lacked everything she’d thought it would be. So she set out to discover why. What she’d learned fascinated her, empowered her, awed her. Sex made the world go ‘round, and Charlie absorbed every facet. Sex was fun. It was exhilarating. It was temporary.

Her best friend was permanent.

“What might have been doesn’t matter now. You were married and off-limits so we became friends instead. Besides, you mean more to me than any sexual fling ever could. You’re my best friend, the best friend I’ve ever had. That’s harder to find than any piece of ass. I love you, Bastian.”

Lines crinkled around his eyes with his gentle smile. She’d never said these words aloud but knew he knew them. She knew she meant the same to him. They were rare and nothing could make her risk that. But still, a girl could fantasize. In color.

When he jerked his head, a silent invitation to join him, she leaped up and threw herself in his arms. Bastian gave the best hugs. Not wimpy and soft as if she’d break or hard and crushing like she was a grape to be squished. He never tried to cop a feel or worried if he brushed her breasts. He just hugged her. It was one of her favorite things about him.

His lips skimmed her brow, just enough to let her know he loved her back.

You can find TURN IT UP for sale at:

Carina Press
Amazon
Barnes&Noble
***

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

MORE FRIENDLINESS:

Megan Hart -- Read in bed!
Eliza Gayle
Rhian Cahill
Anne Rainey
Lissa Matthews
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
Alison Kent
Delilah Devlin
HelenKay Dimon
Leah Braemel
Shelli Stevens
Shiloh Walker
TJ Michaels
Zoë Archer
Lacey Savage

Free Story, Unexpectedly

2012-01-20T13:56:00.000-08:00

So, with this indie publishing thing I've been doing, a writer can sometimes get his or her story offered for free at places like Amazon or B&N various ways. I won't go into the boring details right now, but it's not always something we can control or predict. I just logged onto my Amazon account and found out A Wintertide Spell is now free: http://www.amazon.com/A-Wintertide-Spell-ebook/dp/B0068OMOJW/ if you are a Kindle reader. It's free in all formats at Smashwords and has been for a long time: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/105613.

At B&N it still costs a buck. I think it's probably free at places like iBooks and Kobo, because Smashwords distributes there.

But it did give me the big-eye to log onto my Amazon account in the publisher area and see that I'd had over a thousand downloads of something! So far it doesn't seem to be translating to any paid sales, but you never know.

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Pack and Coven Cover & Review Copies

2012-01-18T09:00:00.000-08:00

I have received the beautifully blue cover for my upcoming February release from Carina, Pack and Coven, which is about witches, werewolves and West Virginia:

Harry turned out delightfully scruffy, don't you think? Granted, Meankitty is still upset that it's a book about dogs and that -- WORSE -- there are dogs on the cover, but she had an entire book dedicated to her and I'm sure there will be others in the future.

I also found out that it is now available for Netgalley reviewers from now (January) until March 8 or so: http://netgalley.com/index2.php?module=catalog&genre=&type=4&txt=Carina

If you want to review it and aren't a Netgallier, you can contact me or, I presume, Carina Press: http://carinapress.com/blog/faq/#16 (who says you either use Netgalley or contact the person listed on that page).

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Meankitty Wants to Know: Stephanie Queen

2012-01-16T03:05:00.000-08:00

Romance author Stephanie Queen (www.stephaniequeen.com) is owned by a cat named Kitty, who, as you will see below, often has a hard time keeping her human in touch with reality...that reality being KITTY COMES FIRST. This is properly illustrated in the photo to the left.

1) So, your human writes books. Does this mean he or she is home all day and easy to access? Elaborate if necessary.

My human, Stephanie Queen (ha!) (SQ to me) is theoretically at home all day. But a lot of the time she’s out to lunch--if you catch my drift. Let me spell it out. I don’t mean she’s necessarily out at a restaurant eating lunch with friends like a normal human, unless you count imaginary friends at the imaginary restaurant hidden inside her scatterbrained head.

2) What are your techniques for distracting your human during crucial writing moments, just because it's fun?

Since she’s so often got that vacant look on her face like there’s no one in residence and who knows what plot she’s dreaming up, I resort to a very direct approach. I leap from the floor directly onto the keyboard in front of her. This has the desired effect of returning SQ to the here-and-now with a high-pitched action packed response.

Kitty warning: Only risk this move when you don’t mind taking a short flight through the air.

3) What indignities and neglect have you suffered because of your human's writing career?

I’m not neglected nearly as much as the cooking [see technique above]. Do you know how many pans she’s burned when she's tried to cook and write at the same time? I’m telling all my cat friends to by stock in Calphalon.

4) What works of fiction or cinema involving cats does your human enjoy sharing with you?

We love Honey West--the old TV series about a purrty private detective with a sexy mole and a Cheshire smile who’s sidekick is a very handsome Big Cat. Tough to come across re-runs. Maybe I can get SQ to write a mystery series along the same line. We’ll call it “Kitty West”.

5) If you could tell your human one thing, what would it be?

I’d tell her if she’s going to be queen--even if she’s only queen of her own imagination--she needs better digs. She needs to move us into a castle. Or at least a big house with lots of mice. Same thing.

*

So, if any of you have any suggestions for how Kitty can encourage Ms. Queen to write that series about a feline detective, let her know in the comments! While there are politicians, detectives, interior decorators and athletes between the pages of Ms. Queen's fiction, there seems to be a decided paucity of starring roles for cats.

Sincerely,
Meankitty & Typing Slave
www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

Snippet Saturday: Setting as Character

2012-01-14T03:28:00.000-08:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday's snippet is setting as character. I had a number of stories where the setting plays such a vital role in the story it might as well be a character, but perhaps the one in which the setting practically DRIVES the entire story is CLAUSTROPHOBIC CHRISTMAS and its ice-induced traffic jam on the interstate. Here's the moment where our heroine realizes the traffic jam is, indeed, a jam:

The truck in front of her groaned and cranked. Its taillights and brakes flickered off with a long, exhausted hiss. All around her, vehicles followed his example, headlights disappearing from her rearview mirrors.

They were giving up? But they’d only been here a few minutes! They could break free any second. Darcy tap-tap-tapped the steering wheel, faster and faster, until she caved to peer pressure and flicked off her headlamps. It was probably a mistake. She needed to be ready. If they idled much longer, it could get nasty. It was cold out there, and getting colder. Snow covered the cars, the road, the fields. Was James stuck? She reached for her phone, charging in the console, to text him, but he might not welcome any personal back and forth.

When she heard a door slam, just as he’d predicted, she twisted around to see what was going on.

There were still enough headlights for her to make out the man from the SUV tugging a large, shaggy dog on a leash. They cut in front of her to the roadside. The human hunched miserably against the wind as the dog cavorted in the possibly record snowfall.

So many tires to pee on, so little time.

Darcy had half a tank of gas, ice on the windshield despite the defrost, and cars, trucks, families and dogs all around her in the same predicament. She was hemmed in by vehicles, by snow, by circumstance. Trapped in one spot with no way out. The sky had darkened, the stars invisible through precipitation and clouds.

Pop was going to have a cow.

She was going to have a coronary.

She could take a pill. Should she? Better not. Any minute now, they’d be driving.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. Ice and sleet. Snowing and blowing.

What could she do? The lifeless fields on either side were unbroken by exits or secondary roads. The man and dog got back into the SUV. Exhaust fumes puffed from tailpipes all around, but her tips for stranded travelers—yep, she’d researched this too—advised erring on the side of caution. How long would she be marooned if she ran out of gas?

She didn’t have babies to keep warm. She shut off the motor and thought of James again. Thanks to him, she hadn't had a drop to drink since the rest area. She was doing well on that front. Yet as soon as she thought of it, the need to wet her whistle smacked into her like the need to admire James’s backside earlier, too fierce to ignore.

An hour of blasting the heater into her face came to a crux, and she could swear she felt her lips crack. Droplets of melt water trickled down the windshield. All that icy goodness going to waste. Darcy licked her lips and gazed at the tasty rivulets. The cola she'd purchased at the rest area beckoned from the small cooler in the floor of the passenger's seat.

Candy. James had said to suck on hard candy. Her homemade peppermint bark was in the trunk, but if she were parked here in five, no, ten minutes, she'd open the jelly beans she’d purchased for Pop’s stocking. She could always claim Santa got noshy.

Two arid minutes later, she flicked on the interior light and leaned through the bucket seats to paw through the gifts in back. Jelly beans, jelly beans, jelly beans. Gotcha! She unwrapped the flat box, saving the paper, and opened the lid. A smorgasbord of colors and flavors met her eyes.

Cantaloupe. Kiwi fruit. Cappuccino. She squinted at the tiny labels. Was there a water flavor? How about a wide open spaces flavor? Doors slammed nearby, but the jellies were more compelling than whoever had braved the blizzard to pee.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

Something rapped her window, and it wasn’t ice.

Darcy shrieked and tossed the box into the air. Candies flew all over the car; a few stuck in her frizzy hair and rolled down the front of her raggedy sweatshirt.

It was James Jones, bending down to peer into the window at Darcy and her lapful of jelly beans.

***

Hey, maybe it's no longer strictly in season, but it's still a fun story! You can find the rest of Claustrophobic Christmas here:

Places you can buy Claustrophobic Christmas:

All Romance Ebooks
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Books on Board
Lybrary.com
Mobipocket
Samhain
Sony

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Here are some more excerpts in which the setting takes on a life of its own:

Megan Hart -- Read in bed!
Eliza Gayle
Rhian Cahill
Lissa Matthews
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
Alison Kent
Delilah Devlin
HelenKay Dimon
Shelli Stevens
Shiloh Walker
Zoë Archer

Meankitty Wants to Know: Jenna Ives

2012-01-09T05:27:00.000-08:00

This Monday, after another hiatus of several Mondays, I have interviewed author Jenna Ives. Jenna apparently knows Typing Slave through a mutual publisher. She (Jenna) writes stories that sometimes involve string, with which the humans tie each other up -- yeah, I have no idea either. But string I like. Her latest release is a new version of a fairy tale about a snowy, white heroine who, in the original tale, falsely claimed to be "fairest of them all", when clearly it's me. It's not like that Snow White character had beautifully perfect white paws, mesmerizing golden eyes, and fur as soft as the human brain.

***

1) Why did you decide to be a writer instead of a cat sanctuary owner?

I was the oldest kid in my family growing up, so I always used to tell stories to entertain my younger brothers and sister. Even after I grew up, the stories just kept coming!

2) Why do you think cats are better than dogs? (Since you call yourself a writer, I trust your answer will be eloquent.)

Cats are highly intelligent; dogs are blindly loyal. Cats are discriminating; dogs like everyone. Your choice in pets all depends on how you prefer to be loved.

3) Why is your household currently deprived of a cat?

Because I’m afraid a cat would eat my beta fighting fish, Rudy.

4) How does your beta fighting fish inspire your writing?

He’s definitely a strong alpha male! And the seven heroes of my Snow White And Her Seven Lovers all share a part of Rudy’s strength.

5) If you have not yet incorporated cats into your fiction, when or how do you plan to rectify this egregious error and demonstration of poor writing skills?

My next story will be an Egyptian romance. Cats were very important to the Egyptians!

6) What are your favorite works of fiction or cinema involving cats or favorite fictional cats?

I’m a huge classic movie fan, so would the leopard Baby in the Katharine Hepburn movie “Bringing Up Baby” count? Technically, a leopard is a cat, right? There’s also Cat, Audrey Hepburn’s cat from “Breakfast At Tiffany’s.”

7) If you were going to publish a new, improved version of your sexy fairy tale, Snow White and Her Seven Lovers, how would you add a feline as a main character?

Well, my heroine Snow White has lost her memory, so if she had a cat, I’m sure it would be a big clue to help her discover her identity.

8) Do you like tuna (for eating, not as a pet)? How many beta fish would it take to make a nice-sized four ounce entree or would they have too many bones to bother with?

I like my tuna fish with mayo and raw onions, but it’s a treat you have to eat alone (or with a Tic Tacs chaser)! As far as an entrée for a cat, well, Rudy is kinda hefty, so I’d say two.

9) Did you know it's been clinicially proven (by me) that writers with cats make more money and are happier in general?

Happier, I believe it! After all, who wouldn’t be happy stroking all that silky, lush, luxurious chest hair, um, I mean fur?

10) Do you plan to write your version of Puss in Boots next? Or what about The White Cat? Those would sell like tunacakes. If those are not your plans for your next book, what DO you plan to write next, and do you promise not to put any dogs in it?

Since I’ve done with a Snow White fairy tale, I’m thinking next might be a sexy version of Beauty And The Beast...and you’ve got me thinking now about how I could make the beast some kind of cat. Hmm...shape shifter, perhaps? Check out www.jennaives.com to see what I come up with!

Thanks for letting me stop by today, Meankitty!!

***

And thanks to all the humans who stopped by today. Please let Jenna know in the comments what fairy tale she should probably rewrite next!

Sincerely,
Meankitty & Typing Slave
www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

Snippet Saturday: Fears

2012-01-07T05:03:00.000-08:00

Happy Winter Holidays, all! Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday's snippet is fears. In Pack and Coven, due out in February, our heroine June is definitely worried and afraid about what consequences her rather reckless actions are going to incur... Sure, she's doing a good deed, but not everyone will agree it was good! Plus, the first line has the word 'fear' in it :).

From Chapter 3, and contains certain spoilers for Chapters 1 & 2:

June’s heart beat so fast and hard she feared Harry would hear it. What she was doing was dicey, and her coven hadn’t exactly approved it. Her coven wouldn’t have approved anything that tossed one of their members into pack politics. But she’d realized, when the idea of losing him struck her like a pie in the face, she had to try anyway. And she had to do it immediately.

She wouldn’t let him be forced into the Millington pack. That wasn’t fair to anyone, much less Harry. He was perfect the way he was.

Nearly perfect. He had kind of a potty mouth.

“A problem?” His bushy brows arched. “I wouldn’t call it that. It’s this woman who wants me to come to a party. I RSVP’d no.”

“A pack bond ceremony, to be exact.” June let the cedar fall to her side. She couldn’t purify his property and hide their tracks while tiptoeing around her kind’s sacred covenant about keeping shifters in the dark. “I understand why the alpha wants you—” Did she ever! “—but most indies don’t make good packers.”

“Ububobu whu?” Harry stuttered.

“I can help you, but you have to swear on your pelt you’ll never tell anybody what I did.”

Quicker than she thought possible, considering he wasn’t pack, Harry invaded her personal space, grabbed her shoulders again and pinned her against her car.

“What do you know?”

She could barely make out the words through his growl. His whiskey-colored eyes sparked pale blue with the onset of the shift. His tousled hair glinted blue-black in the sun. Oh Goddess, his scent was wild and musky, his hands strong. Being this close to him when he was riled was much more erotic than she’d expected.

She always had to be careful about getting close to Harry. His senses were keen, and some of her secrets had to remain secret.

Like the fact he’d been right the first time he’d called her name. Well, not right—her real name was June—but she’d been wearing her Sandie camouflage for years. She’d considered keeping it after the encounter in the tea room, but it took too much power to maintain. She needed all the magic she could squeeze out of herself to help Harry, so all she’d kept was a minimum facade of humanity.

“I know enough,” she told him. Summoning a spike of power, she channeled it into the cedar and poked his stomach. He jumped back with a yelp as if he’d been stung, which technically he had.

“What the hell was that?” He jerked up his shirt to check, and she nearly whistled. Shifters were physically fit in two-legged form, yeah, but his abs were especially delicious. With her libido dampener forfeit like her Sandie mask, all that black, silky hair on his chest, trailing down his midriff, weakened her knees.

“Sorry. Cedar has sharp needles.” If she came out of this with Harry ignorant about magic, her coven might not go completely off on her. They’d still be furious, but the covenant would be intact and so would Harry.

Now she just needed to stuff an angry werewolf into a tiny car and transport him to safety before she ran out of juice—and before anybody figured out what she was doing.

***

Soon I hope to be able to share some cover art for you! I can't wait to see how it turns out with Carina's artists.
Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Find more great excerpts about fears here!

Megan Hart -- Read in bed!
Eliza Gayle
Rhian Cahill
Anne Rainey
Lissa Matthews
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
Alison Kent
Delilah Devlin
HelenKay Dimon
Leah Braemel
Shelli Stevens
Shiloh Walker
TJ Michaels

Corn-Beef?

2012-01-02T11:26:00.000-08:00

Overheard conversation at New Year's Day meal. Ages of children currently 10 and 5.

Kid2 (stares at corned beef and cabbage): I don't like this.
Kid1 (sounding exactly like her mother): You can't say that until you've tried it.
Kid2 (tries the beef): It's not very good. It's not juicy like a pig.
Kid1: Because it's not pig.
Kid2: Then what is it?
Kid1: Corn beef. I think it's a cow that was fed corn or something.
Meankitty (meowing): I want to try!
Me: NOBODY FEED THE CAT! (feeds the cat secretly under the table)

Sincerely,
JW and Meankitty
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

New Year, New Book!

2012-01-01T12:18:00.000-08:00

Technically the release date of A Mage By Any Other Name was December 31, but who's counting? Not me. I'm totally not counting...not refreshing my Amazon page to see the rankings, not haunting my sales reports. NOPE! This will be my last self-published release for awhile as I gear up for the February Carina release of Pack and Coven. December was definitely busy!

Here's a little bit about the book:

"A Mage by Any Other Name"
by Jody Wallace
Ebook Release: December 31, 2011 (Amazon exclusive! For now.)
Genre: Fantasy
Length: Novella
From: Meankitty Publishing
Cover: Laura Morrigan

About the story:

Mary's new job with Wizard Williwim is perfect. The tasks burn off her excess magic, the district is remote, and her employer gives her access to the highly classified library of magic. There she hopes to discover a spell that will catapult her back onto the path to the respect and approval she yearns for. For years she’s attempted one plan after another, and finally, at last, this one appears to be working.

But Mary’s life has never been that easy. After only a month, an enemy from her past reappears to endanger everything she has nearly achieved. Williwim has been challenged in a wizardrite tournament by none other than Professor Grantus, a pompous mage at Concerto College whom Mary can’t admit she knows.

The problem is, what she knows could mean the difference between success...and death. Can Mary figure out a way to vanquish a vengeful opponent who has bested her far too many times before?

This fantasy novella is 26,000 words long and contains a bonus deleted scene at the end.

This fantasy novella probably needs some reviews.

This fantasy novella has an awesome cover. Seriously! Laura Morrigan rocks.

You can buy A Mage by Any Other Name at:

Amazon (from December 31, 2011, until March 31, 2012. Please contact me if this is an issue for you and you don't want to wait for wider distribution.)

Excerpt here! http://www.kindleboards.com/book/?asin=B006RO3LVS#sample

Snippet Saturday: Endings

2011-12-31T06:12:00.000-08:00

Happy Winter Holidays, all! Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday's snippet is endings, which is clearly appropriate for the date! I thought that, instead of sharing the ending of a whole book, I'd share one of the sections in my Choose Your Own Romance from Red Sage, Megan's Choice. Yes, you read that right! Each one of these sections has a significant ending with a choice where readers get to decide what the heroine of the book does next. Let's do the first section and its ending...

***

Megan Malone never enjoyed being at the center of the universe. Polestar, quite frankly, stunk. All the traffic, all the species, all the smells and noise and congestion, made her long for the wide open reaches of space.

However, too many black expanses for too many days in a row had left her craving downtime. By down, she meant down on a real planet, not in a vidmall. She’d prefer a tropical planet, the roar of unpolluted surf crashing in her ears and the gleam of a yellow sun twinkling on the well-oiled muscles of humanoid cabana boys.

While she adored sensaround, not even that holographic marvel would erase the itch lurking inside her to feel sand between her toes, salt water on her skin, and, well, other things in other parts of her body. And not even a two-day sleep would heal the jaggedness she’d begun to suffer at the edges of her psi.

“When I drop the passengers on Ysaltris,” Megan told her boss as she sat across his desk from him, “I’m staying there, and I want a three dec holiday.”

“Thirty days off?” Gerald Parks, the fleet manager of Stellar Transport, frowned and rubbed his unnaturally bald pate. “You’re our best zip pilot. I can’t lose you for that long. How about ten days?”

“I haven’t taken a day off in three hundreds turns.” Megan jabbed the light stylus she’d been fiddling with at Gerald, who shifted his bulk backwards towards the windows that overlooked the shipyards of Polestar Prime. “I’m going to burn my psi out, and then who’ll pilot Frank?”

In fact, she’d only endured this long by judicious use of stims and treating herself to a session in a sensaround hot tub between every assignment. Piloting a zip ship, which involved a psi-link to the AI that sapped a pilot’s energy levels like a black hole, wasn’t exactly a stress-free occupation—or conducive to relationships beyond getting laid on a lay-over.

Just a layover lay, Megan would settle for right about now. Stars, it had been an eon since she’d gone to bed with a fellow humanoid, much less woken up beside one.

“Come on. We dropped an embarrassing number of credits reconfiguring Frank to your specifications. He practically flies himself.” Gerald laced his fingers over his paunchy stomach. “I’ll give you fifteen days, no more.”

“Not enough. Linking with any ship is a constant drain, even when things go smoothly.” Megan knew Gerald wouldn’t give in easily, but she was desperate. With an intensity that almost disturbed her, she craved a block of time spent entirely at her leisure. She’d even begun to fantasize about changing careers, though she’d planned to be a starship pilot as long as she could remember.

She raised her stylus to gesture and opened her mouth to expound on how much ST owed her and indulge in a spot of legal blackmail when the receptionist’s grey, lipless face popped into the air between her and Gerald.

Megan jerked her stylus out of the projection, although the sight of the pen in gD’tril’s holographic nostril had been pretty funny.

“Sir Parks,” it said, the projection flickering, “you have a holocall from the emissary.”

No need to ask which emissary. Sheeshan an Hiram ab Anshan pad Tu, Polestar’s representative in the legislative branch of the Quad government, was the only emissary who had ST on her holodex.

Gerald whacked the triangular projector embedded in his desk, and the receptionist’s image clarified. “Can it wait? I’m in a meeting.”

“The emissary said it was urgent.” The dB’thx blinked its inner eyelids. On the other side of the projection, Megan saw a blurry Gerald grimace. Although gD’tril could see Gerald as well, it continued as if its boss weren’t pulling disgusted faces while it spoke. “Your office or the booth?”

Gerald glanced at Megan, who shooed him away. “I’m not involved here. If the emissary needs a pilot, get somebody else. Remember? I’m about to go on vacation.”

The Polestar emissary was a volatile Torian who’d gotten elected to the Quad’s legislative branch, the Guidance, because of the sizeable contingent of Torians on the planet. Polestar, as the most inbound of all inbound systems, was home to hundreds of species, but most weren’t as organized as the matriarchal Torians. The times Megan had been called to transport the emissary and her staff had been unusual, especially after the woman had taken a special sort of shine to her.

This attraction had caused some awkwardness between them. Megan considered Sheeshan something of a friend, but that was as far as she wanted to go. Dating a government official was at the top of her “Never Again” list. Never, never again.

“Set me up in the booth.” Gerald rose from his body-conforming chair with a grunt and exited the office.

Megan waited, watching as flitters at the docks staffed by ST and other transportation companies hovered, landed and rose like giant avians feeding their young. She considered how to pressure Gerald to give her what she wanted— no, what she deserved. She hadn’t had a break in what amounted to almost a year on their native Terra. Three hundred days shuttling through wormholes from spaceport to spaceport, surrounded by querulous passengers, canned oxygen and recon food, with only the occasional sensaround rendezvous and gourmet meal to look forward to.

Megan might not enjoy the grey sky cities and bottlenecks of Polestar Prime, but at least the air was real. If Gerald balked her vacation, she’d play the psi card. Considering how few beings of any species had appropriate psi to pilot zip ships without additional, costly wet wiring, ST should be kissing her butt a lot more than they did.

She could get a job with any transport company at twice the credits she was making here. Maybe. Unlike most Terrans, an inquisitive race in the galactic scheme of things, she had developed a rep as a sour puss. Many corporations preferred a pilot who was at least civil to passengers.

Maybe if she didn’t work so damn much, she wouldn’t feel so crabby all the time. Maybe if she weren’t so crabby, she wouldn’t end up lonely all the time. Maybe if she had a different job, she’d grow to hate it, too, but have less income to soothe her disillusionment.

And that would make her crabby all over again.

But however much ST owed her, she owed them as well. When she’d been an intern pilot, it had been their intervention that had saved her from being “recruited” by the Truce, the military branch of the Quad government.
Most beings with strong psi got drafted by the Truce. In return for Megan’s civilian status, ST provided transport for non-military government operations at a reduced rate.

Except for the transport of Emissary Sheeshan, Megan was rarely the pilot for those operations. There were those in the government who still sought to “recruit” her, so she did what she could to limit her exposure.

Growing impatient, Megan thumbed the holocom and buzzed the receptionist. “Is he out yet?” she asked.

The hologram of gD’tril glanced up from its hard terminal. dB’thx as a species had no psi, with or without wet wiring, and accessed tech the old-fashioned way. “No.”

“Any idea what the call was about?”

“No.”

“Can you ask him?”

“No. Sorry.” The receptionist terminated the call. dB’thx weren’t known for their effusiveness, just their efficiency.

Megan’s stomach grumbled, reminding her how long she’d been cooling her buns in Gerald’s office. It had been a while since breakfast, and she’d been looking forward to an extravagant lunch followed by a trip to Sensaround, Inc. at the vidmall. One of the remaining perks of the single life, now that loneliness had become an issue, was the freedom to spend her credits however she wished.

Right before she ditched the meeting, Gerald returned, clapping his hands when he saw her.

“Malone. Glad you’re still here.”

“We weren’t finished,” Megan pointed out, ignoring the fact she’d been seconds from leaving. “I want my vacation approved.”

He ignored her petition. “I have bad news. Scratch that. I have interesting news. The emissary was just informed there’s a civil war brewing in the Elteri system.”

“Elteri?” Megan straightened in her chair, hunger forgotten. The chair shifted with her, supporting her back in its new position. “How can they have a civil war? There’s no indigenous intelligent life. I thought it was rated as a raw materials system.”

“Sheeshan wants to brief you. Needless to say, this is classified.” Gerald returned to his seat and squinted. Megan felt an answering tingle in her brain that indicated his use of psi. A library terminal rose from Gerald’s desk in response and began flickering images and text.

In another moment, Sheeshan’s holo coalesced above the embedded projector. The emissary’s auburn hair was confined to a green snood, and her rosy skin was taut around the mouth and nose. The high neck of her black uniform gave the impression her head was immobile.

“Malone,” the emissary said, without preamble, “I’m glad you could join us.”
Sheeshan’s businesslike demeanor alerted Megan to the fact this was a grim situation. “I’m listening.”

“We have just learned an insurgent group has overrun the Elteri colony and taken everyone prisoner, including the fifth steward. We’ve been given a deadline to—”

Megan interrupted. “What the hell was a steward doing there?” Each populated planet that met certain criteria was allowed an emissary to the Guidance, and the thousands of emissaries elected the twelve stewards who headed the Quad government and its four branches: Guidance, Truce, Justice and Library. It didn’t make any sense that one of the stewards had been touring an outbound system with few exports and a barely-there outpost.

“That information isn’t available at this time,” Sheeshan replied coolly. “The insurgents dispatched an apprentice pilot on a zip ship to relay their demands.”

“But—”

“Malone, give the emissary a chance to describe the situation before you start asking questions.” On the other side of Sheeshan’s image, Gerald frowned at Megan before concentrating on his library terminal.

“Sorry.” Sheeshan may or may not have known the steward’s purpose on Elteri, but she had to know that Megan was a contract pilot with limited clearance. So Sheeshan would keep her mouth shut, at least now when there was a witness.

Still, Megan wished she knew more. Like all citizens, she was concerned with conflict. Outbound disputes had a way of spilling into inbound economics and increasing government recruitment efforts. That was why she was the owner of a black market peeper card, so she could sneak into Quad databases.

“Several days have passed since the incident, and as I tried to mention before,” Sheeshan continued, a touch of her customary good humor creeping into her serious tone, “we have a deadline. The insurgents destroyed the ship’s comm systems, which forced the pilot to deliver their demands in person. Before you ask, we don’t know why.”

Gerald slowed the progression of data on his terminal, and his use of psi prickled in Megan’s head. So much tech required psi to access it that wet wiring—kitium implants that increased residual psi—was becoming commonplace, but no less costly. Naturally-occurring psi was more reliable, and ST prided itself on employing only congenital pilots without implants, like Megan.

“It might help us understand if we consider the species of these so-called native Elterians,” Megan suggested. Pilots, like librarians, the staff of the government’s information-gathering branch, were trained in cross-species communication. Since repeat customers kept shipping companies in business, cultural sensitivity was a must. Megan got around that part by avoiding passengers as much as possible, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t mastered the basics.

“The library had no information on the Elterians. They’re carbon-based humanoids, unremarkable in appearance, but here’s the catch. They exhibited unusual psi powers to subdue resistance.” Sheeshan’s lips quirked. “Off the record, my friends, but the Quad is running around like a bunch of ticits on kaf, and the Truce is arguing for an immediate cleansing. You know how the military feels about unmapped psi.”

“Not to mention insurgents.” The Truce was not the benevolent branch of the government, to be sure. “What powers did they flash?”

When Sheeshan shook her head, Megan guessed, “Classified?”

“Not classified, just unknown. If we knew what their powers are, the situation wouldn’t be as troublesome.” Sheeshan glanced out of the holo for a moment and then back at Megan. Tiny lines marred her brow, a stress indicator Megan had never noticed on the Torian’s countenance before today. “You’re a very untrusting woman, Malone.”

Megan wanted to argue she had good reason to distrust governmental agendas, but she was professional enough to realize this was neither the time nor the place. Sheeshan would reveal as much information as she was authorized to, and she wouldn’t knowingly place anyone in danger. Torians, Sheeshan included, were a peace-seeking species. Megan could trust that, even if she didn’t trust the Quad as a whole.

Gerald’s terminal beeped, and he hummed with satisfaction. “Done. I’ve run the reports and data dump through the verification program.” He pivoted the screen towards Megan, where a steady stream of information scrolled past. Megan speed-read some and gave up. She was too tired for that kind of brain effort.

Sheeshan pressed her fingers briefly against pressure points along her eyebrows before instructing Gerald. “Make sure Malone receives the data packet with full clearance. Now about the deadline. The insurgents have demanded an immediate withdrawal of all Quad citizens from Elteri within two decs. The messenger has used several of those days in transit.”

A thousand turns ago, the librarians had cleared the Elteri system for colonization, and now these insurgents appeared only while the fifth steward was there. As they said on Megan’s native Terra, something didn’t smell right. Sheeshan’s great care with her words and obvious tension were another tip-off that there was more to the story.

Megan felt the data pad in her hip pack vibrate with the incoming packet. Though she had a good idea why Sheeshan had contacted ST about this, pushing for confirmation would speed the process and get her out of here quicker.

“What does all this have to do with Stellar Transport and me?” she asked.

Sheeshan inclined her head at Gerald, ceding the floor. He gestured, and the terminal sank into his desk. “The government is sending negotiators on a non-military ship. It’s important the ship be innocuous to scans, yet piloted by an individual who can flit the team to safety at a moment’s notice. I know you don’t usually take government missions, but how about a reassignment?”

She was right. They wanted her to pilot. Megan asked the important questions first. “Would I get a hazard bonus?”

“Yes,” Gerald said.

“How long would the assignment last?”

“The Truce isn’t likely to wait more than a dec before they move in, at which point you will move out.”

“Is it likely to turn into a war zone?” The ship Frank was essentially weaponless, and Megan was no fighter pilot.

“We think that isn’t likely pre-Truce,” Sheeshan interjected.

“Who’s on the team?” Megan demanded. Sheeshan was the only government employee Megan could stand, the only one she partly trusted. In her experience, which wasn’t as limited as she might wish, the personalities who sought high office, no matter their species, were power-hungry, ambitious, and manipulative.

Gerald dropped his gaze and Sheeshan said smoothly, “Most of the negotiators aren’t known to you. However, I’d like you to holo me privately on a secure line to discuss the mission in more detail if you have questions.”

“Who’s on the team?” Megan repeated, suspicion blossoming. Her familiarity with government officials beyond Sheeshan was due to a youthful—on her part—liaison with a member of the Justice branch that had gone awry.

Terribly, painfully awry. Nightmares in the dark awry. Obsessive avoidance of attachments awry.

And she had the solitary life of a zip pilot to show for it.

“Negotiators are typically emissaries and judges,” Sheeshan hedged. “We have the training and temperament for it.”

The pit of Megan’s stomach hollowed. If Sheeshan were leading the team, she’d have said so. “Who’s heading the team?” she asked a third time.

Terran legends claimed if you spoke the names of demons and evil spirits three times, they’d appear. Megan was no believer in fate, no follower of a higher power, but sometimes it seemed the universe had other ideas.

Sheeshan finally admitted, “Yusef Gunnen from the Justice.”

Looks like the legends were true. She’d asked three times, and the devil himself had been conjured. Megan glared at the hologram. “Were you going to mention that before or after I agreed?”

“Malone—Megan—I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t critical. As the emissary for Stellar Transport’s home planet, I volunteered to be the transportation liaison. I thought you’d prefer the request come from someone you know. Someone you know has your best interests at heart.”

Sheeshan’s pale grey eyes, replicated with striking accuracy in the holo, stared at Megan as if there weren’t a city between them. As if she wanted to comfort Megan—or jolt her out of the fight or flight reaction Yusef Gunnen now roused in her.

But any secret messages the emissary wanted to send were lost on Megan as she felt her throat constrict, her heart rate increase, and her nails bite into her palms.

No, dammit, no! She wasn’t going to be driven by fear. The man had influenced her decisions and disrupted her dreams long enough, and she was through letting her past sour the future.

“Malone,” Gerald said in a much less accommodating tone than the emissary’s, “we haven’t got all day for you to make up your mind. Before we discuss any vacations, I need a decision.”

What should Megan do?

(a) Agree to pilot the diplomat ship, despite the fact her controlling former lover Yusef Gunnen, who might be vindictive with regards to their break-up, would be leading the negotiation team. Her psi could handle the trip with a few stims, and she’d insist on a long, healing vacation afterwards plus a bigger bonus than Gerald wanted to give.
Despite her mixed feelings, a diplomatic mission was more important than shuttling tourists to Ysaltris. And if—no, when—she resisted Yusef, she’d prove to herself once and for all she was completely cured of bad relationship judgment. Click here (2).

(b) Refuse the mission. She had better sense now than when she was green, and she’d learned discretion was sometimes the better part of valor.
Discretion was required here for three reasons. One, she was in no shape to pilot a high-stress assignment, stims or no stims. It wouldn’t do if her psi faltered at a crucial moment, like when the ship was traversing a wormhole. Two, seeing Yusef Gunnen wasn’t high on her to-do list. In fact, avoiding Yusef was in her best interest. It didn’t make her weak to concede that. Which brought her to three, the loneliness that had been eating at her lately would make her more vulnerable to Yusef’s particular brand of manipulation. If she were dating someone she liked, maybe loved, it would be easier to resist, but she wasn’t. She was alone. The man had nearly destroyed her once. Why give him another chance? Click here (3).

***

If you'd like to make some choices in Megan's life, you can find her whole book here:

Places to buy Megan's Choice:

All Romance Ebooks
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Books on Board
Diesel Ebooks
Fictionwise
Kobo
Lulu
Powells
Red Sage

Jody W. (writing as Ellie Marvel)

www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Send out the old year with some more fun excerpts!
Lauren Dane
Rhian Cahill
Eliza Gayle
Selena Blake
Anne Rainey
Lissa Matthews
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
Alison Kent
Delilah Devlin
Shelli Stevens
Shiloh Walker
Leah Braemel
HelenKay Dimon
TJ Michaels

Snippet Saturday: Beginnings

2011-12-24T05:11:00.000-08:00

Happy Winter Holidays, all! Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday's snippet is beginnings. Here's the first couple paragraphs of my short story "Dunvegas: Alien Attack!". The entire PDF of Dunvegas stories, which includes stories by a number of paranormal romance authors, can be had for FREE at http://carolanivey.com/dunvegas/

***

“If I were an alien who’d escaped Area 51, where would I go?” Miranda Mellons raised the binoculars to her sweaty face and inspected the military base from atop Tikaboo Peak, the closest legal vantage point to the Groom Lake facility. All she could see was a cluster of white warehouses encircled by the thin, tan lines of desert roads. Nothing else but twenty-six miles of sand, bushes, and mountain ranges. No signs of life, much less the military masses searching for alien life.

But there’d been no mistaking the signal she’d picked up with her dad’s old radio less than twenty-four hours ago. Her father, an ex-military survivalist, had taught her well, and she knew what the coded message meant.

Loose foo.

An alien had escaped.

It was the day they’d all been waiting for. She was determined to be the one to locate the ET, to prove herself to the other Dream Team members who humored her out of respect for her father’s memory.

She had to decide on a plan of action. Others might be hiking up Tikaboo even now, at least the ones spry enough to handle the terrain. She’d beaten them here because she’d neglected to relay the message until she’d been en route. Hey, they’d pawned off the shit Nevada outpost job on her while they handled the exciting aspects of extraterrestrial hunting—anything besides monitoring a radio. She should benefit at least a little. After all, it was her father who’d started the Dream Team, a faction of ET hunters and conspiracy theorists that had spanned the globe since before the Internet.

They’d all thought Area 51 was a dead zone. No way would the government hide anything or anyone here since it was so well known.

They’d been wrong.

What to do, what to do. Miranda buzzed with excitement, and also the several energy drinks she’d consumed on the trip. The others had more contacts than she did, more resources. But she had two things they didn’t have—the first and most relevant being proximity.

Not that it was doing her any good. She didn’t see anything unusual. Didn’t smell anything. Didn’t hear anything. She’d been up Tikaboo enough to know what was usual, too.

Her second ace in the hole hadn’t helped yet, either—her souped-up gamma wave scanner. The others had scanners, but not like hers. She didn’t plan to tell them about the modifications until she confirmed they worked. Unfortunately, the main unit was too heavy to carry up the mountain, and she hadn’t detected anything on the handheld.

Hell, if she were an alien who’d escaped Area 51, the first thing she’d do would be blow the place. Barring that, she’d hightail it as fast as she could towards the closest human establishment where she could blend in. Might that be Rachel? No way. Only 100 people lived there and half of them were crazy. Alamo? Nope, still too small.

Well, of course. By hook, teleportation, pick-up truck or crook, the alien would head for Las Vegas. Let the other Dreamers scour the desert around the ET Highway. Miranda was going straight to Sin City to extend the hand of human friendship to their stellar kin.

***

More grand beginnings:

Lauren Dane
Rhian Cahill
Eliza Gayle
Selena Blake
Anne Rainey
Jody Wallace
Lissa Matthews
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
Alison Kent
Delilah Devlin
Shelli Stevens
Shiloh Walker
Leah Braemel
HelenKay Dimon
TJ Michaels

Jody Wallace
http://www.jodywallace.com/ * http://www.meankitty.com/

Another Chance to Win Loot

2011-12-18T14:01:00.001-08:00

The authors at Here Be Magic (yep, I'm one of 'em) are giving away a Kindle Fire and many many books. Drawing will be this month! Go here: http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2011/12/december-will-be-magic-again-here-be.html

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Snippet Saturday: Winter

2011-12-17T04:19:00.000-08:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday's snippet is quite appropriately about winter, and of the three very wintery things I've published lately, I think I'll go with Claustrophobic Christmas. Incidentally, in Claustrophobic Christmas, the characters reference a snowstorm that happened in the 90s during the holidays, and my most recent release, The Worst Christmas, tells that tale, albeit with different characters.

So anyway. Claustrophobic Christmas features a traffic jam that happens due to some very unfriendly winter weather. Not that readers won't realize that's what the story's about, but here's the first time we get into the hero's POV and he realizes it's going to be a white Christmas.

***

James shook himself and headed for the parking lot. While he’d been inside pretending the rest area was a meet-cute, snow had speckled his truck. Icy flakes wet his neck and face, interspersed with the drizzle that had dogged him since Texas. The light was grey, barely filtering through the clouds.

It really was going to snow. Hell. He couldn’t put off calling home any longer. His nosy sisters had left eighty thousand messages at his mother’s behest. Everyone was expecting him—and Darcy—and he needed to break the news. No, Mother, I won’t be getting involved with a Tallwood girl, moving home, and popping out twenty babies. What’s worse, I suspect I’ll be late for dinner.

His older sister Juanita answered. Thank God it wasn’t Sally. Sal was Mother’s clone, but Nita might give him a break.

“Hey, loverboy,” she said. “How’s it going?”

“She said no, so it’s going shitty.” James swiped the driver’s side window with his sleeve while he talked, not bothering to get his gloves.

“I’m sorry, Jamie. I thought Darcy liked you.” James could hear a billion females gabbing in the background. He was the only boy, the middle child of five, and according to his sisters, his mother’s favorite. Not including the grandkids, of course.

“I thought she did too.” Instead, his big romantic gesture had been a big waste of time.

“Is she gay?” Nita’s voice echoed, and the hubbub dimmed. She must have closed herself in the half-bath.

“Nah.” There was no reason for Darcy to have lied about being gay. “I don’t think so.”

“I heard she almost married some Hispanic man a couple years ago. She wasn’t gay then.”

“That would be Luis.” During their many exchanges, she’d mentioned men from her past but never a Heath, one of the reasons James figured Heath was imaginary.

“Her brothers thought Luis was a great guy. They were disappointed it didn’t work out.”

“Well, Mother’s going to have to be disappointed it didn’t work out with me, either. Isn’t Sal pregnant again? She can get obsessed with that instead. Another Jones grandchild.”

Nita snorted. “Mother can be obsessed with all sorts of things simultaneously.”

“True.” James studied the snow sticking to the cars, and the interstate with its heavy holiday traffic. The pace had definitely slowed.

Fan-damn-tastic. The futility of this journey jabbed his gut in a way it had been doing more and more lately. If he’d had his way, Darcy would have been with him and they’d have entertained each other. Warmed each other.

All his idle hours in cars or planes, commuting to jobs when he could be… He didn’t know what else he could be doing. Whatever it was, he’d thought it might involve Darcy.

Guess not.

“Is that Jamie on the phone?” his mother yelled.

“Crud,” Nita said. “She found me.”

Unlike Darcy, speaking of his mother was like conjuring the devil. Her voice grew sharper and louder. She must have opened the bathroom door. “Ask Jamie if Darcy likes light meat or dark meat because we can save her some thigh, maybe, but the kids always want the turkey legs and I don’t know what they’ll do if they don’t get a turkey leg.”

“You should have locked the door, Nita. It’s the only way you can be safe.” James rubbed a patch of stubborn ice on the windshield, gave up, and located his scraper in the glove box. He wondered if Darcy had packed her winter gear. It was rarely needed in Texas, but the woman had sense. You only had to read her travel tips and stories in that funny little newsletter to get that.

“Lock’s broken,” Nita told him. Then to their mother, “Give me a minute, will ya? I’m in the bathroom.”

“In the bathroom on the phone,” Mother snapped. James heard the bathroom door slam. Nita would pay for that later.

“Do me a favor. Tell Mother I struck out.” He wiped the scraper on his jeans to knock the ice off. “Better yet, tell her I ran off with a cute flight attendant. To Hong Kong.”

“Not a chance. She’s already planning the wedding.” Nita snorted out a laugh when he groaned. “It’s a June wedding, by the way. At First United.”

He ran cold fingers over his face, squeezing his forehead. “Come on. I’ll give you three hundred dollars to tell her.”

“I’ll give you five hundred if I can be there when you tell her,” she countered.

“Tell her I’m going to be late for dinner too. I’m still in Arkansas, and it’s snowing.”

“So?”

“You not watching the weather?”

“Rudolph and Frosty are on constant rotation.”

“It’s supposed to get bad.” If snow and ice clogged the interstate, it would be a right bitch, and boring as hell. Traffic jams were an even bigger waste of time than the standard cross-country trip.

****

You're so right, James.

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Places to buy all of James' winter adventure:

All Romance Ebooks
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Books on Board
Lybrary.com
Mobipocket
Samhain
Sony

More winter excerpts here! Go visit --
Lauren Dane
Rhian Cahill
Eliza Gayle
Selena Blake
Anne Rainey
Lissa Matthews
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
Alison Kent
Delilah Devlin
HelenKay Dimon
Shelli Stevens
Shiloh Walker
TJ Michaels

He Has Suffered For My Art

2011-12-16T14:24:00.000-08:00

I'm not just a writer. I'm also a wife, mother, humbug, tap dancer, fry cook, cat petter, typing slave for Meankitty, and CRAFTER. In fact, last year I CRAFTED a magnificent thing -- a garment for the hubs to wear in the tacky Christmas sweater contest at his place of employment. This garment, which he dutifully donned, earned him first place last year.

This year, I was too busy CRAFTING gifts for the dance teachers at the studio, so I had no time to make a new sweater. Hubs had gotten a taste of first place, though, and couldn't bear to stand down from this year's contest at work. So he added another strand of twinkly lights to his sweater and wore it again.

Once again, he has taken first prize! He got a Snuggie. It was kindly suggested he retire the two-time gold medalist and decorate the Snug for next year's contest.

Can you IMAGINE what I can do with a Snuggie when I did this with a mere sweater?

The world may not be able to handle the gloriousness.

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

PS: Think this is the worst Christmas sweater you've ever seen? Try my new YA short story, The Worst Christmas, and compare! A sweater plays a significant role in there, too.

Amazon Link: http://www.amazon.com/The-Worst-Christmas-ebook/dp/B006MNOZW8
Smashwords Link: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/114927
B&N Link: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-worst-christmas-ellie-marvel/1108002829?ean=2940013862418

Newish Book Release!

2011-12-16T07:33:00.000-08:00

A couple years ago, I made available a prequel to What She Deserves through the Samhain Freebie program -- a YA called "The Worst Christmas". Well, in honor of it being Christmas now and the fact authors can now selfpublish stuff more easily, I have re-released the 9000 word short story on Amazon, Smashwords and PubIt (although at the time of this blog post, it's not up on PubIt yet). It's a cute holiday tale about an ice storm that disrupts our high school heroine's family holiday traditions.

For those of you who have read What She Deserves, you'll really pick up on the hints of Winnie and Peter's sexy future together. But the story -- despite it being written by that dirty girl Ellie Marvel -- is appropriate for ages 10+ or so, with some mild cursing, a high school crush, and a joke about tampons.

I am thinking about letting Kid1 read it if she wants, as she recently turned 10. I should get her to review it! *heh* Think she'll give me give stars?

Links that currently work: http://www.amazon.com/The-Worst-Christmas-ebook/dp/B006MNOZW8

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/114927

Meankitty says the story sucks because there are no cats in it, btw. You have been warned.

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Book Trailer Showcase Information

2011-12-14T13:22:00.000-08:00

Among the many things authors can do to promote their books in this day and age is create what's known as a book trailer. This can be anything from a video of the author talking about the book to a whizbang, movie-trailer style digital featurette. I've done a couple book videos myself, which you may or may not realize -- not counting all the Meankitty videos, of course -- and recently I was contacted to see if I wanted to participate in a new online venture that will showcase author book videos. It's a fun site and it's having it's grand opening on December 15, 2011. I suggested the talking gnome vid for Survival of the Fairest, and the project managers kindly accepted it.

You can find out more at their website: http://booktrailershowcase.com. I hope you'll check it out!

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Snippet Saturday: Family

2011-12-10T04:33:00.000-08:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday's snippet is about family, and what says family more than a good labor pains scene? In A Wintertide Spell, the prequel to A Spell for Susannah, the story takes places as Susannah's mother is about to have her third child. Unfortunately, her husband the King seems to be a bit distracted...

***

Chapter 2

When Geneva arrived, Binny jerked open the chamber door and immediately began scolding. “I told you not to go out in this weather. I told you you’d bought enough gifts. I told you the healer wouldn’t let you go.”

The nurse’s voice faded into a buzz of annoyance as the Queen’s watery gaze fell on her two young daughters, seated on the edge of a divan, their eyes wide with concern. The guards set her carefully on her feet and scurried off to tend to other duties.

“Hello, darlings,” she managed between pants. “Mama is going to have your baby sister tonight.”

“Papa says we’re to have a baby brother. I helped him break the Female Curse last week.” Susannah’s unruly, dark hair did not suit her serious nature. She had, however, already showed signs of one of her happier christening gifts—canniness. “I thought I should warn you, Mama, so you won’t give our brother a girl’s name.”

The Queen sighed. They’d tried to protect Susannah, but their eldest daughter had somehow concluded the Middle Kingdoms were in trouble, however indirectly, because of her. Probably learned it from her father, who loved to lecture his daughters. Five and three year olds couldn’t be expected to realize when their Papa was teasing, sadly mistaken—or straying from the bosom of his family.

“Your Papa,” Geneva told Susannah and Calypso, “tells a lot of fine tales.” Including the one about how he would love his wife, and only his wife, forever.

After Binny rang for the maids, the healers and everyone else she could think of, the Queen allowed the nurse to help her out of her clothing. The princesses clung to her, getting in the way yet welcome just the same. They would be separated from her for most of the birthing process, and she wanted to assure them everything would be all right.

“Are you excited to meet the baby?” she asked as they hovered. “I know I am. What color hair do you think she’ll have?”

Calypso’s hair was as red as her grandfather’s had been. She sniffled and threw herself at her mother. Binny caught her before she could latch onto the Queen’s wet, dirty skirts.

“Mama, Mama! Will you die when the baby comes out?” she wailed.

“Of course not. Women’s bodies are made to have babies.” The Queen finished shedding her skirts and held out her arms. Calypso ran into them for a hug, joined by Susannah. “Healer Naudo will be with me every moment.”

“Will Suze and I have babies?” Calypso asked.

“Only when you are much older. And married.” She kissed the children’s cheeks and smiled tightly as a purple-frocked maid burst through the chamber door. “Go with Evette. Mama needs to rest.”

Reassured, her daughters left with the maid, with the promise they could play “Who Shall Be Queen?” on the thrones in the receiving room.

“I told you not to go shopping,” Binny nagged her again as soon as they were alone. “You don’t have to do everything yourself anymore. You are the Queen. You have servants.”

“I like to do things myself.” She breathed deeply as another pain hit her. This babe was coming fast, and all the stalking she’d done today had doubtless accelerated matters.

Another ill to lay at her husband’s door, should he ever deign to walk through it.

“This is what happens when you do too much.” The nurse bagged the soiled garments and helped Geneva into soft, absorbent pantaloons, pantaloons she wished she’d worn today before haring off on her angry mission. “I hope you weren’t anywhere near a stables when your pains began. The babe will look like a horse.”

“I don’t believe in superstition,” Geneva gritted out.

Places you can buy A Wintertide Spell:

Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Smashwords (where it is temporarily free!!)

***
Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Treat yourself to a bunch more familial excerpts:

Lauren Dane
Rhian Cahill
Eliza Gayle
Selena Blake
Anne Rainey
Lissa Matthews
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
Vivian Arend
Alison Kent
Delilah Devlin
HelenKay Dimon
Shelli Stevens
Shiloh Walker
Leah Braemel
Louisa Edwards
TJ Michaels

Snippet Saturday: Secondary Characters

2011-12-03T04:34:00.000-08:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday's snippet is secondary characters. People in a book who aren't the protagonists can play everything from an unnamed walk-on to a very significant role that has its own character arc and narrative drive.

My most recent release is Claustrophobic Christmas, and I thought I'd share a short scene where our hero and heroine encounter some fellow travellers suffering in the same traffic jam that stuck them together. This scene takes places several chapters into the novella, when the traffic jam has begun and James is standing outside Darcy's car, checking to see if she is all right. I wouldn't say the characters in this story have their own arcs, but they'd certainly LIKE to have more drive!

Too bad about the snow and ice....

***

A door of the SUV next to them opened, and a man hopped out. His shoes crunched on the ice and snow as he rounded the front of his vehicle. James turned his flashlight back on.

“Hey, man,” the guy said to him. “What’s going on up the road?”

James flicked the flashlight toward the east, the direction they all wanted to travel. “I didn’t go far, but if I recall correctly, in a couple miles there’s a bridge. I’m guessing it iced over.”

Darcy widened her window. “The radio station mentioned bridges and overpasses.”

“The station out of Tarnington?” the guy asked. “All I can find is Christmas music.”

“I’m not sure, it was mostly static.” She shook her head. As James watched, something tiny sprang out of her bushy hair to the ground, disappearing into the snow.

“I think you lost a hair barrette,” he told her.

She smoothed her hair, pausing near one ear, and plucked something free. She huffed and flicked it to the ground.

“Nope. Jelly bean,” she said.

He’d ask later. Right now the guy from the SUV was watching them expectantly, and exhaust puffed around them, encouraging James to find cleaner air to breathe. Or at least warmer air. The glacial night was starting to solidify his nose hairs.

“I gotta find something to listen to,” the guy said. “The baby is asleep but my older kids are going stir crazy. The batteries on the DVD player ran out.”

“We might be here a while.” James glanced at the SUV sympathetically. “There was an exit ten miles back, but you can’t make a U-turn here. You folks have enough gas?”

“I think so.” The dad grabbed the SUV’s door when it started to open. “Stay inside, punkin, you’re wasting heat,” he fussed at the kids. James assumed it was the kids and not his wife. Two young faces and one doggy one pressed against the glass. Darcy waved at them.

He heard more doors slam. Several onlookers converged on their little gathering. James had been in enough jams to know people would leap on any excuse to break the monotony, even when it was twenty degrees and snowing sideways. One man slipped, and the lady with him clung to his arm.

Darcy shut her car off, reducing the exhaust odor.

“I saw you walk past earlier.” An older man wearing a ball cap shoved his hands into his overcoat pockets. “What’s to see, buddy?”

“It’s the Big Creek Bridge, I betcha anything,” another guy said. “I’m from Tarnington. The wife sent me out for milk and bread, but I had to go into Heckley to find anything. Now here I am.”

“Bad luck,” everyone agreed.

***

Places you can buy Claustrophobic Christmas:

All Romance Ebooks
Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Books on Board
Lybrary.com
Mobipocket
Samhain
Sony

Jody W. (w/a Ellie Marvel)
Claustrophobic Christmas - November 29, 2011. All ice will melt.
www.elliemarvel.com * www.meankitty.com

****Make sure to check out these other secondary characters and excerpts!****

Lauren Dane
Rhian Cahill
Eliza Gayle
Anne Rainey
Lissa Matthews
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
Vivian Arend
Alison Kent
Delilah Devlin
HelenKay Dimon
Shelli Stevens
Shiloh Walker

Meankitty's List of Ideas for That Christmas Book

2011-12-01T06:46:00.000-08:00

This is a link, but it is a link worth following. Meankitty kindly helped me come up with a Thursday Thirteen about Claustrophobic Christmas, entitled "13 Things That Would Have Made It Really Hard for James and Darcy to Get Romantic."

http://paranormalauthors.blogspot.com/2011/12/13-things-that-did-not-happen-in.html

She is so bad. Enjoy!

Jody W. & Meankitty
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Now on Sale: Something to Thaw any Winter Ice

2011-11-29T01:11:00.000-08:00

CLAUSTROPHOBIC CHRISTMAS -- Contemporary Romance by Ellie Marvel

Travel agent Darcy Burkell has a secret. She's got a touch of claustrophobia (hence the title) and hasn't traveled much. When she hires photographer James Jones, they become close cyber-friends, inspiring James to conclude Darcy in the woman for him—someone who’ll travel with him. But when he shows up at Darcy’s office unannounced and suggests they take a holiday trip together, she turns him down flat.

Her resolve is tested when she and James become gridlocked by an ice storm. Impassable roads force them to spend hours together in his vehicle…shivering. And cuddling. Will the fires still burn between them after Darcy confesses her secret?

So far I've seen it at:

Places you can buy Claustrophobic Christmas:

Amazon
Barnes & Noble
Books on Board
Lybrary.com
Samhain
Try the entire first chapter free!

I need to see how much of a sample you get on the Kindle...

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

New Release: A Wintertide Spell

2011-11-17T11:57:00.000-08:00

If the King is fated to love thirteen women before he turns fifty, is he still husband material? One cold, snowy Wintertide Eve, Queen Geneva of Foresta tracks her straying spouse in an attempt to discover where exactly he goes at night. Has he met his next great love already? Will he put her and their three children aside?

As Geneva labors over the solution to her husband’s curse, King Reginald is attempting to discover a solution for a problem of his own--and for the entire Middle Kingdoms.

This 7500 word short story is a stand-alone prequel to A Spell for Susannah.

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/A-Wintertide-Spell-ebook/dp/B0068OMOJW/
Barnes and Noble: http://search.barnesandnoble.com/books/e/2940013459885
Smashwords (temporarily free!!): https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/105613

The Face of Despair

2011-11-10T08:37:00.000-08:00

Do you ever feel like this?

Yeah, me too. Feel free to suggest captions in the comments!

Jody W.

www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Claustrophobic Christmas Update

2011-11-08T10:50:00.000-08:00

My Ellie Marvel Tallwood holiday novella has been bumped two weeks so it will come out at the same time as several other Samhain holiday books. It'll be a regular winter wonderland on the Samhain New Books pages on November 29! And I now have the official blurb for A Claustrophobic Christmas to share:

Tagline: Travel Queen Survival Tip #23: If you get stuck in an ice storm, find a hot guy to keep you toasty.

Travel agent Darcy Burkell has a secret. She doesn't precisely jet around the world despite what’s implied in her popular newsletter about vacation destinations. When she hires photographer James Jones to illustrate her stories, they become close cyber-friends, comparing notes on exotic locales, vacation spots, and much more.

James is sure that Darcy is the woman for him—someone who’ll travel with him instead of expecting him to stay home all the time. Putting his ideas into action, James shows up at Darcy’s office unannounced and suggests they take a holiday trip together.

Darcy is too embarrassed to admit her phobia and turns him down flat. She knows what kind of woman he wants, and she’s not it. But her resolve is tested when she and James become gridlocked by an ice storm. Impassable roads force them to spend hours together in his vehicle…shivering. And cuddling.

But will the fires still burn between them after Darcy confesses her big secret?

Warning: This title contains dreadful weather, a medium-sized misunderstanding, jelly beans that taste like boogers and coitus interruptus by redneckus.

I left "explicit sexual content" off the warning since that's kind of understood in Ellie books at this point, right?

I hope to hold a giveaway soon!

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

My Personal Assistant

2011-11-02T15:55:00.000-07:00

Whenever I work at the computer, my personal assistant likes to oversee me, make sure I'm staying on task.

I had to put that chair there for Big D so he'd stay out of my lap. I can't reach the keyboard when he's up in my business.

Jody W.

www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

What's Your Costume?

2011-10-31T13:21:00.000-07:00

Pick one!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! (Click for a larger version.)

Sincerely,

Meankitty & Typing Slave

www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

Snippet Saturday: Villain's POV

2011-10-22T03:17:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday's snippet is ascene from a villain's POV. Below I've got a short scene from Survival of the Fairest where the villain who isn't the villain meets the villain who is the villain.

*****

The scene opens when Elder Embor of Clan Torval, the fairy Primary, has failed to capture the heroine, Talista, who is AWOL in humanspace. In Vegas, no less. He requests that the local fairy ring agent give him a report.

***

When the gray-haired fairy was brought to him, she crushed out her cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke in his face. Embor closed his eyes and prayed for patience, though it was difficult surrounded by poisonous fumes.

The woman had become peculiar and insubordinate during her stint in humanspace, but her record showed no complaints. Her team had identified many entries to increase the fragmented lists of individuals to be monitored. Her achievements were undeniable. The Agent Oversight Committee in charge of humanspace agents was satisfied with her mental health. Ring agents who spent years with humans often became eccentric. Who wouldn’t after inhabiting this stinking world for decades?

“Lit out on you, did she?” Her voice was a rusted creak of dissolution. She brushed an ash from her filmy white skirt and flipped the butt at the trashcan. “Sucks to do things without magic, don’t it?”

“It’s more difficult than need be. Creating spellglobes to locate her would take time, time we don’t have.” It would also require the cooperation of Anisette or the twins’ parents, and he wasn’t ready to alert Clan Serendipity to the fact that their beloved princess was AWOL in humanspace.

The woman shifted on the hotel bed and crossed one leg over the other. A bony knee poked through a hole in her tights. “It would suck to live like this, what, fifty years? Get you a head of gray hair and a crop of wrinkles worse than a whore’s bed. The piss-paltry few months you Realmsiders experienced during the Incident ain’t got nothing on it for aches and pains.”

Embor tightened his lips to prevent himself from savaging the old fairy. The Incident had nearly devastated the Realm. He replied in an even voice. “Humanspace isn’t healthy in large doses. Your commitment does your clan honor.”

“Commitment my pasty white ass.” She assessed him with pale eyes. “I hear twosies can’t go longer than a week or two without suffering the nail-heads.”

“Correct.” Embor could stave off separation sickness, but the princess couldn’t. “You see why it’s imperative we retrieve Talista soon.”

***

Yes, I loved both these characters so much they showed up in One Thousand Kisses.

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

More excerpts about villains:
Anne Rainey
Selena Robins
Eliza Gayle
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Mandy M Roth
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
Selena Blake
Vivian Arend
Beth-Ann Mason
HelenKay Dimon
Shelli Stevens
Lauren Dane
TJ Michaels
Shiloh Walker

Spooky Tails for Halloween

2011-10-20T08:28:00.000-07:00

A little cross posting promo: Today I'm posting my first entry at Here Be Magic, a blog of mostly Carina authors who write books with speculative elements. http://herebemagic.blogspot.com/2011/10/spooky-tails-for-halloween.html I am about to go edit the blog entry so it includes a picture of a cat, brb.

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Claustrophobic Christmas

2011-10-18T17:52:00.000-07:00

Hubba. Hubba.

Today I got the frosty yet steamy cover (by Angie Waters) and title (by me) for Claustrophobic Christmas. I thought I'd share that plus the blurb I wrote (no official blurb just yet). This should be released during the holiday season at Samhain Publishing. It's an Ellie Marvel book (which means it is sexxay) loosely connected to What She Deserves, also from Samhain, in that they're both set in fictional Tallwood, TN. We're working on a tight schedule, and I'm pretty excited about this novella because I've wanted to share it with everyone for almost two years now.

***blurb***

Travel agent Darcy Burkell has a secret. Because she's claustrophobic, she doesn't travel much despite publishing a popular newsletter with detailed accounts of vacation destinations. When she hires photographer James Jones, who grew up in the same town she did, to illustrate her stories, they become cyber-friends.

James decides Darcy might be the one woman to help him settle down--or at least someone who’ll travel with him instead of expecting him to stay home with her all the time. Right before Christmas, he shows up unannounced and suggests they make a trip together.

But Darcy tells him no way--she doesn’t like surprises any more than she likes small spaces. And she feels that a man who loves to travel isn't a good match for her, nor she for him. Her resolve is tested when she and James, driving on the same interstate in the same direction, become gridlocked by a sudden ice storm. Impassable roads force them to spend several hours together in his vehicle. It's freezing outside, but inside it gets hot enough to melt all the ice in Arkansas. The question is, can their affection remain toasty after Darcy confesses her big secret?

****

Yes, an ice storm can gridlock an interstate for hours on end. It happened to both my sister (in KY) and brother (in AR) one year when they were en route to TN for the holidays. That's where the truth ends and the fiction begins, though. Far as I know, neither of them had fun sexytimes during their respective gridlocks :)

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Snippet Saturday: Place of Business

2011-10-15T06:50:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday the theme is place of business. Where do your characters work? Do they have jobs besides creature of the night or assassin or secret agent?

I thought I'd post another something from my upcoming Carina release, Pack and Coven. I last posted the first page or so, which does take place in a business, a tea room. Our hero Harry, a werewolf, likes to eat in this tea room because, hey, good food, and also because the other werewolves aren't likely to show up there. Self-respecting werewolves don't hang out in tea rooms...unless they do.

So I'll post a continuation of that scene from 2 weeks ago.

***

Bianca’s chin lifted as she scented the air, and her gaze fell unerringly on Harry. “There you are.”

He did his best to conceal his flinch and regretted the fact he’d already given Annette the menu because he couldn’t duck behind it.

“I’ll get your tea,” Annette said before she left. “If your friends order anything, let them know that around here we tip the wait staff.”

The three shifters swaggered through the tea room, attracting a good deal of attention. The ladies at the next table bent their heads together, whispering. Thanks to his sharper-than-human ears, Harry could hear them.

“Those are the ones I was telling you about,” the blonde said. Her name was Donna Manns, and Harry had gone out with her years ago. “They’re dating that lowlife Bert Macabee whose gang got caught robbing the Webster place.”

Hold on, this was news. The pack alpha had gotten his ass arrested? Donna was married to a cop now. She’d know what she was talking about.

“All three were dating him at the same time?” one of the ladies gasped, horror and delight in her voice. “Did they know about each other?”

“Apparently,” Donna said with relish. “The one with black hair, Bianca Macabee, she’s married to him. Those people down the river are like a cult. My husband says they’re nudists or survivalists or something. I guess they do things different. Well, they can’t break the law. Macabee’s going to be sent to prison.”

Harry cleared his throat. When the ladies turned, he nodded politely. Bianca liked to pick fights. If the news were true, she’d be especially belligerent right now. The ladies realized Bianca had closed in, so they hushed—the better to hear whatever she planned to say to Harry.

“Harry,” Bianca said, lingering over the Rs. “We’ve been looking for you all day.”

Bianca might be a wolf, but when she talked—at least when she was in a good mood—she purred. She didn’t sound belligerent. Donna must be wrong about Bert, or Bianca wouldn’t be smiling. The pack had a good lawyer.

“I just got back from a purchasing trip,” he answered, relaxing a little. “I’m having lunch.”

“They have excellent steaks,” Bianca remarked. “I may have to bring my friends here.”

Harry didn’t want the pack haunting Miss Sandie’s. Moreover, he didn’t want Sandie and the others associating him with the shifters. Not that humans knew about shifters, but the local pack had a bad reputation in these parts. They maintained a few lucrative businesses—bar, bike shop, convenience store—but they liked to bully the humans.

And, apparently, rob them.

“They don’t usually have steaks,” Harry lied. “What can I do for you? Is your truck giving you trouble?”

“Now, Harry, there’s no need to be all business. We’ve known each other for years.”

Yeah, years of him distancing himself from pack politics. He and the local group had coexisted in uneasy accord after Bert satisfied himself Harry wasn’t going to make a play for the territory.

That didn’t stop other pack members—mostly women—from imploring him to join. They’d get in big trouble if they slept with a wolf outside the pack, and for whatever reason women regarded Harry as desirable.

A burden he valiantly bore.

Bianca slid into the chair across from him while Violet and Susan hovered behind her. The lace-topped table only seated two. Over Bianca’s shoulder, Harry saw Annette peek through the round window of the kitchen door. She probably wouldn’t come back out while Bianca and company were here.

So much for his tasty beverage. Damn, he was thirsty too.

He did have water. He sighed and crunched ice, wishing it were Sandie’s fruit tea. “Why are you looking for me?”

“You know what we want.” Under the table, Bianca’s boot nudged his calf, inching upward. Her black hair was pulled into a sleek tail, and her dark eyes were made darker by makeup. “We want you to come to our party.”

Pack wolves hosted annual ceremonies to renew bonds. Their annual was next month, but he’d rather gnaw his own foot off than show up for a party like that. Snacks or no snacks.

“I sent my regrets.” Harry crossed his legs under the table, kicking her boot aside. “I have plans that night.”

“Doing what, playing bunco with the grannies?” Violet asked with a snide laugh.

Bianca chuckled a moment but then snapped her fingers, silencing the other female. “How many times have you missed our party? I won’t take no for an answer.”

***

I also just found out that Pack and Coven was selected by Audible.com to become an audio book, which is an arrangement Carina has in place for its releases. It's my understanding Audible.com picks the Carina releases they think would work the best as audio books. Pretty awesome, huh? So if you don't want to read it, you can listen to it :)

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

For more workplace shenanigans this fine Saturday, be sure to visit:
Anne Rainey
Eliza Gayle
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Mandy M Roth
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
Vivian Arend
Alison Kent
HelenKay Dimon
Shelli Stevens
Lauren Dane
Lacey Savage
TJ Michaels
Shiloh Walker

Man Kitty Monday: Monty

2011-10-03T17:51:00.000-07:00

Hello, kittens! (a purrfect greeting my online buddy Xakara uses all the time) We're back for another edition of ManKitty Monday. Last week we admired some splendidly furry abs, and tonight we're getting a close up of a leonine, classically handsome tabby-face.

Meet Monty:

Monty isn't in the movies yet, but he should be, don't you think? He's exotic and foreign, like a Harlequin hero (at least if you don't live in Denmark, otherwise he's, like, a next door neighbor). His lush, sexy fur and prominent whiskers will tickle your fancy, in your recliner, on the couch, in the bathroom, in bed, oh yeah, basically whereever you are.

As long as you don't try to TOUCH him and his HARDENED WARRIOR HEART.

This guy is a standoffish alpha male, clearly suffering from some trauma in his past where a lover or stupid human cast him cruelly aside. He may moonlight as a demon or dark angel, which makes him even MORE hip in Romancelandia.

Just look into these eyes. Look at the gorgeous breadth on that nose. And those whiskers, all pointed dramatically down with displeasure. Sexy sexy displeasure. Aw yeah!

He is tortured, ladies. Yes, indeed. He lashes out at women who just want to love him. Will YOU be the one to tame him?

You can find out more about Monty at http://meankitty.com/2011/09/monty/

Thanks for stopping by ManKitty Monday!

Sincerely,

Meankitty & Typing Slave
www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

Snippet Saturday: Author's Choice

2011-10-01T03:54:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday the theme is author's choice. There should be a great variety today! I'm going to post my first official excerpt of my upcoming Carina novel, Pack and Coven, since we've finished final edits and stuff. I don't have an official blurb yet, but here's how the book starts:

***

“Sorry, sweetie, we’re out of porterhouses.” Harry’s gray-haired waitress slid a stemmed water glass onto the table in front of him and flipped her receipt book to the next page.

Out of porterhouses? How could Miss Sandie’s Tea Room run out of steaks when he was the only customer who ordered them?

Harry stared at the frilly, blue-checkered menu as if another werewolf-friendly item were going to appear among the scones and scotch eggs. Miss Sandie’s was his customary lunch spot, but he’d rather fire up the grill himself than settle for a fruit plate.

Which was saying a lot. Harry hadn’t gotten a culinary gene, just a furry one.

“Are you sure, Annette? Did Sandie order T-bones?” He sniffed the air but couldn’t detect much beyond the fresh flowers on his table and apple-pie odor that saturated the dining room. He didn’t have the greatest nose in wolfdom, but it wasn’t as dull as a human’s.

“Your friends from earlier cleaned us out.” Annette slipped into the chair across from him, clearly intent on a chat. The café wasn’t busy at this hour. “Sandie doesn’t mind keeping you in steaks, Harry, but this isn’t a greasy spoon.”

“Which friends?” He peered around the pastry cabinet next to his chair, but a table of female diners blocked his view of the café.

“Your lady friends.” Annette smoothed a wrinkle out of the tablecloth. “I use the term lady loosely, you understand. No ladies I know behave like that.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. Harry had a number of lady friends, and none would give Annette a sour face. Or order steak at a tea room. He liked his women sweet, talented in the kitchen and one hundred percent human. He also liked them roughly his own age, which left Miss Sandie and her staff out of the running. Too bad. Miss Sandie in particular had a great sense of humor, an open mind, a big heart, and was one of the best cooks he’d ever known.

The question was, why would Annette connect some random, steak-eating women to him? “My friends, huh. Did they mention me by name or something?”

Annette tapped her pen on her receipt book. “They said they knew you. They looked familiar, but I haven’t met every single person in town.”

“Maybe they weren’t from around here.” Millington, West Virginia, wasn’t big, but it was close enough to Wheeling that they did get tourist traffic. It was possible some of the independent shifters he’d known in New York City were visiting.

“Could be.” She leaned toward him. “I certainly don’t know anyone in Millington who thinks dog collars make good fashion accessories.”

“Not even pink ones?”

Annette rolled her eyes, so Harry changed the subject. He’d been in Wheeling all morning buying supplies for his garage, and he was starving. “What are the specials today?”

“Same as every Thursday, kiddo,” Annette teased, but she told him anyway.

While she talked, Harry cursed inwardly. These “friends” sounded like local pack members. He frequented the tea room and befriended humans as part of his strategy of pack avoidance. If the pack invaded his sanctuary, he’d be severely put out. It had taken years to cultivate Sandie and her staff, trading discounted automotive repairs for steaks cooked the way he liked them, friendly faces and the occasional heated bunco session.

This was his place. His. Why did they have to ruin it? Couldn’t they just leave him alone?

He could just hear the alpha female, Bianca’s, coaxing tones—Bert agreed to accept you, Harry. Wolves aren’t made to live by themselves, Harry. Join the pack, Harry.

The pack could kiss his hairy butt. Contrary to popular werewolf belief, shifters could be as human as the next human if they wanted. Pack life was a choice, not a necessity.

A choice Harry didn’t plan to make.

“Earth to Harry.” Annette tapped his menu with her pen. “What do you want for lunch?”

“Ham-and-cheese croissant—heavy on the cheese, heavier on the ham—a side of scrambled eggs with that tomato sauce, a plate of scones, a selection of marmalades and a strawberry-and-walnut salad. Oh, and fruit tea.”

“Hungry boy.” Annette stuck her pen in her upswept hairdo. “You remind me of Junior.”

“He doing okay at school?”

“He was home at Christmas. He looked thin.”

“I’m sure you remedied that.” Harry handed over the menu and winked. Annette ran a close second to Sandie as his favorite person in Millington, and that was saying something, because Sandie was his favorite person outside Millington too. “If any of my so-called friends come back, tell them you’re out of steak and save the porterhouse for me.”

The bell above the door tinkled a merry tune. She rose and slipped her receipt book in her apron pocket. “Why don’t you tell them yourselves?”

“What do you mean?” He swiveled in his chair and watched local pack members Bianca, Violet and Susan stroll through the front door. Their spike-heeled boots and skintight clothes were as out of place in Miss Sandie’s Tea Room as Annette and Sandie would have been in a biker bar.

***

I'm so happy to be able to share Harry's story with you guys!

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

More Author's Choice Excerpts:

Anne Rainey
Selena Robins
Eliza Gayle
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Mandy M Roth
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
Selena Blake
Vivian Arend
Alison Kent
Beth-Ann Mason
HelenKay Dimon
Shelli Stevens
Lauren Dane
Lacey Savage
TJ Michaels
Shiloh Walker

Meankitty Wants to Know: Entangled Cats

2011-09-29T20:05:00.000-07:00

Today in my Meankitty interview series, I've got a special dual interview from two literary felines who are doing their part to help humans. A group of author-humans got together to write an anthology called Entangled [[sounds like yarn, I know!]]. The proceeds from the anthology will be donated to The Breast Cancer Research Foundation, which exists to make sure our lady humans, who are so good at the petting and the feeding and the opening of doors, aren't taken from us cats too soon.

All the stories in Entangled are paranormal, but the two that I wanted to talk about today have kitty protagonists. This means they are clearly the two superior stories in the book, and it's worth buying for that, if not for the charitable aspect. http://www.amazon.com/Entangled-a-Paranormal-Anthology-ebook/dp/B005LXWPI6

The two stories in question are:

THE FAT CAT by Edie Ramer (author of Cattitude, Galaxy Girls) — In a battle for the souls of seven women, a wizard has the god of war on his side; all the witch has is a fat, black cat.

FEEL THE MAGIC by Liz Kreger (author of the Part of Tomorrow series) — Jenna Carmichael’s magical attempt to rectify Jessica Manfield’s birth identity takes an unexpected turn when the past comes back to haunt her.

***

So let's hear from the best character in THE FAT CAT, Sampson, who is going to compare being a human versus being a cat and which species has the edge.

I LIKE being a cat. What’s not to like? I get to nap a lot. My human takes care of me and waits on me. If she’s a bit slow, I let her know. It’s easier for me than for most cats, since we have a telepathic connection. Which means I can talk to her mind and she can talk to mine. She listens to me all of the time. I listen to her most of the time. She told me my inattentiveness could be because of my male sex and not my species.

At least, I think that’s what she said. While she was talking, I was tracking a juicy looking bug that was climbing the wall.

Then there’s the opposable thumb thing. Cats don’t have them. Thumbs are important. Though Tory is my slave in almost every way, when it comes to food, she holds back. She makes chicken and fish and doesn’t give me any. Says the sauce she put on them will make me sick. She won’t even let me eat grapes, says they’re not good for me.

So what? Is all that chocolate she eats good for her? And what about the ice cream?

As a human, I could open doors when I like. Go out hunting any time I like. Eat whatever I want. (I mentioned that before, but food is worth mentioning again.)

Most of all, there’s the age thing. When it comes to cat years, I’ve been racking them up. I used to be sleek and strong and quick. My fur used to shine. Now I’m not any of those things. If I were human, I wouldn’t be a child, but I’d still be on the young side. I’d be strong and virile and handsome. Human women would want me.

Of course, I’d have to do a few more things for myself than I do now. But perhaps I can still get Tory to take care of me. From my observations, human females do most of the work while the males lounge around and watch TV. And once in a while, they nap.

Just like I’m going to do right now.

***

Yeah, sounds like Sampson has his head on straight. He seems pretty adept at directing his human and secure in his catliness. Now let's hear from the heroine of FEEL THE MAGIC, Jezebel, who made an extremely wise choice that I know will make you all jealous!

Hi, I’m Jezebel...formerly Jessica Mansfield. I was once a woman with a bright future but fell on hard times and went in a direction I never, in a million years, thought I’d go. I lost my family, no advanced education, no job, had no money and was pretty much living on the streets. Somehow I managed to do something stupid like hook up with Floyd, who I thought loved me, but all he wanted was another call girl. So much for hopes and dreams as a woman. I ended up becoming a two-bit hooker.

Then I read an article about Jenna Carmichael. She’s one of those Practitioners whose magical profession just became legal. It was a short story where she claimed she could transform a man into a woman and vice versa without dangerous surgeries or hormone therapy. Certainly got the
plastic surgeons in an uproar.

Well, I never had the desire to be a man, but I also knew I was never meant to be a woman. I was a cat. Deep down, in my heart, I’ve always known that. It was a stupid dream and one that I never thought could become true. Yet, here was a person who just might be able to do it.

I contacted Jenna, who I’m sure thought I was a first class nut job. At first she wouldn’t even meet with me, but I persisted. I jumped through the legal hoops, signed all the necessary papers, and then one day, she did it. I became a cat.

Best thing I could have ever done. I’m free! Free of the prostitution... although Jenna was pretty pissed when she found out about that, free of financial cares, free of a million things that made my life as a human hellacious. Sure I miss opposable thumbs. Can’t even open a door by myself, much less get into a can of Friskies (tuna’s my favorite... yum).

Still, I have so many wonderful advantages. My sense of smell is outstanding. Both my hearing and sight are so much stronger... I could see a mouse flick its whiskers at fifty paces. I can sleep as much as I want and be as obnoxious as I desire. I’m a cat. That’s expected. I’m supposed to be lazy, independent, demanding.

What’s not to like?

Then there’s the whole psychic communication thing. The court’s ordered that I be able to communicate in some manner so that if I ever change my mind about being a cat (fat chance of that happenin’) I could inform Jenna. So, she infused a sixth sense into me. The ability to send my thoughts to a person. Likin’ that. Can’t read minds, but this is pretty cool.

Given a choice? I’d never (evah) go back to being human. A cat is what I was meant to be and a cat is what I’m gonna stay. Besides, I’ve decided to make Jenna my human, so there is an endless stream of excitement going on around here. I’ve heard her threaten to change someone into a toad... how cool would that be?

***

The pen and ink drawings depicted above were created by the daughter of Ms. Kreger. Go forth and read! Ms. Ramer has links to all the bookstores including Amazon at her Entangled page in case you haven't drunk the Kindle Koolaid: http://edieramer.com/books/entangled-paranormal-charity-anthology/

Sincerely,

Meankitty & Typing Slave
www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

Man Candy Monday?

2011-09-26T19:02:00.000-07:00

On Twitter on Mondays, I have been seeing this hashtag, #ManCandyMonday I seem to recall Meankitty posting some similarly themed posts in the past, hairy, sexy men that all the ladies (and men who like hairy, sexy men) would LOVE to stroke and cuddle. Irresistably displayed abdomens....intense bedroom eyes....provocative poses.

So here, for everyone's pleasure, is our contribution to Man Candy Monday, which we shall now rechristen Man Kitty Monday. Meet Sam.

He's silky. He's slinky. And he's single.

This dazzling hunk is 16 pounds of I-LOVE-YOU.

Sam likes long walks through green pastures, spending time with his favorite humans, zesty rub downs and eating the heads off field mice.

If you don't try to fence this strong, masculine loverboy in, he'll be sure and spend evenings in your lap, drooling on you and shedding all over you, baby, with his luxurious fur. He'll also keep your feet warm at night and wait until at least 4 am to wake you with his howling to go outside.

Sam cannot yet be found on the www.meankitty.com site because, let's face it, he's a lover, not a fighter, and he's way too nice for the Meankitty Gallery. But boy is he ever shiny!

ManKitty Mondays are pretty cool! Let's do this again soon.

Sincerely,

Jody W. & Meankitty
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Snippet Saturday: Milestones

2011-09-24T04:26:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday the theme is milestones. I don't know if I'm preparing this post before I've had my coffee, but I can't think of a single "milestone" in my books, nor any milemarkers. However, there's a street sign in my upcoming book from Carina, which is due out February 2012. Alas, I don't have a go-ahead to post from that yet! Hm. Oh, I know! Here's one from One Thousand Kisses, though it's more of a "sign" than a "milestone". Our intrepid magical road trippers (aka hero, heroine, cat) have woken on a beach after an incident and now must figure out exactly where they are.

***

As soon as they were out of the wind, the heat of the night smacked Ani like a wave. She hoped the cat didn’t intend for them to walk to Key West.

“Do we have money?” she asked. Murky houses rose on stilts, vehicles parked underneath. Along the road, street lamps and porch lights blazed. Sword-leaved plants and gravel decorated the tiny yards.

“Yes.” Embor paused on the sidewalk while she caught up. The cat batted a palmetto bug.

It was late enough that few cars traveled the thoroughfare. This area appeared to be family dwellings, but several blocks away she saw neon banners and other indicators of a commercial district.

The bug destroyed, the cat sauntered in that direction. Ani paced beside Embor, her head bowed. She began to sweat beneath the layers of fabric that had been insufficient in Cragen. What would the humans think of she and Embor? Blood dotted his shirt, and an angry scratch sliced his neck. His trousers were ripped and grisly. As for herself, she wore men’s clothing four sizes too large and had tooth marks on her hand. She’d visited Tali enough to know humans judged appearances on a routine basis.

“We need to clean up before we… What are we doing?”

With the street lamps and porch lights, she could see Embor better. Not that it helped. His expression was as impassive as ever. “Following the cat.”

“What if they search for us?”

“They’ll assume we used transport globes to leave the area.”

Disappearing did seem wise. “One of us could use our escape tooth and transport us to Key West.”

“Mine is gone. Yours should be preserved,” he said.

“This is kind of an emergency, don’t you think?” She licked the tooth in question, a back molar. Her tongue couldn’t distinguish it as different. “It’s not as if they’re difficult to replace.”

“No,” he repeated.

“Master Fey,” Ani begged, “were are we going?” The farther they trudged in this muggy heat, the more she wanted to strip to her gown. Human females often wore dresses that resembled sleepwear. Hers was dirty, but it would be better than drowning in sweat.

The cat pirruped, like a mother cat at a kitten. He clearly wanted them to follow.

“This is your plan? To follow the cat?” she asked Embor. She yanked her itchy hair out of her collar where it stuck to her damp neck.

“I, for one, don’t want to trap him again. So we follow.” He had to be as hot as she was. His bites and scratches needed tending, and his withdrawals could vary from a twelve-hour migraine to days of misery. “I presume the cat is leading us to… Cat, come back here.”

The cat galloped across a parking lot to the front door of The Conch Shell Inn. The walkways outside the rooms were bordered by iron railings, but the two-story building was otherwise undistinguished. “Clean rooms!”, “Outdoor pool!” and “Vacancy!” blinked on the neon sign near the road. The sign was missing a letter so it read Conch hell Inn.

It was, Ani reflected, a bad sign in many ways.

***
Places to buy One Thousand Kisses (ebook):

All Romance Ebooks
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Books on Board
Diesel Ebooks
Fictionwise
Google Books
Mobipocket
Powells
Samhain Publishing
Sony

Thanks for stopping by!

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

MORE MILESTONES:

Anne Rainey
TJ Michaels
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
Lauren Dane

Vivian Arend
Shelli Stevens
TJ Michaels
Eliza Gayle
Denise A. Agnew
Beth-Ann Mason

Romances with Cats

2011-09-08T06:28:00.000-07:00

Clearly, romances with cats are better. But the reason I'm posting is to share the fact I just posted a list of romances with cats at one of my group blogs: http://paranormalauthors.blogspot.com/2011/09/13-plus-books-about-cats.html I didn't list all the many, many books I found -- there are quite a few mystery series with cats in them! -- and tried to concentrate on the romances. Hie on over there and tell me what to add! Meankitty approves.

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Snippet Saturday: Weather

2011-09-03T03:46:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday the theme is weather. Meankitty in particular is fond of cold weather because it means warm air blowing from the vents and humans wearing fuzzy pants. Big D also likes it because it means there's more socks strewn about the house for him to capture and howl about. But that's got nothing to do with the following excerpt from Cooley's Panther, which I'm featuring today because (a) it mentions weather; and (b) I just switched it to FREE at Smashwords, if you want to read the whole thing. Free, free, free!

Anyway, here's the intro that mentions weather:

The police were first to arrive, some twenty minutes after she called. Cooley had just finished printing out the digital photo of the panther she’d spotted in her back yard. It was about six thirty in the morning, and the day wasn’t yet as muggy and hot as it would get this afternoon. [[[Author's note: See? Weather!]]

“Look here.” She met Officer Mofield on her flagstone porch and shoved the print-out into the uniformed woman’s hands. “Tell me that’s not a panther. Well, really, a leopard, but panther’s the most common name for the black ones.”

“Cooley, you have to quit making prank... Holy moly! That’s some alley cat. When did you take this?” The officer dropped one hand to her hip and unsnapped her weapon holster, eyeing the neat hedge that lined Cooley’s front porch with suspicious eyes.

“About five this morning, right before sunrise.” Cooley’s heart raced with the excitement of the finally vindicated. “The zoo denies it, but after they misplaced those gazelles last year they probably don’t want to publicize another escapee.”

Officer Mofield shook her head. “They’d be legally obligated to report something like that.”

The officer’s doubt didn’t change the fact the animal had been caught in the crosshairs of Cooley’s digital camera. “I had to lighten the image to reveal the cat’s silhouette. If I could get a better shot in sunlight, you could see the rosette markings underneath all that melanin. Beautiful animal, but he’s out of his element.” Cooley’s finger traced the sleek, black body of the loping panther in the photo.

Officer Mofield looked up from the paper. “Can you show me this location?”

“It’s in the back. We’ll go through the house.”

Before the policewoman entered, she flicked on her radio and muttered something to dispatch telling animal control to get their hind ends up here after all.

**
Oh fans of paranormal romance, I bet you can see something of where this is headed! Get yourself over to Smashwords, and find out if you're right: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/48041

Sincerely,

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

More weather? Sure! Hot, cold and everything in between...

Anne Rainey
Eliza Gayle
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Myla Jackson
Taige Crenshaw
Alison Kent
Denise A. Agnew
Lacey Savage
Shelli Stevens
Shiloh Walker
TJ Michaels

Snippet Saturday: Games

2011-08-27T03:41:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday the theme is games. Last week I went with the magic show from Survival of the Fairest, and this week I think I'm going with SOTF, too, since it's set in Vegas, which probably has more games per square mile than anywhere outside Hasbro's warehouse. Here's the scene when our heroine, who's never been to humanspace, first wanders through a Vegas casino:

The downstairs boutique had a limited selection of clothing, so Tali settled on one outfit plus an extra T-shirt for sleeping. Her Realm undergarments would suffice. Fairy magic didn’t encompass the creation of physical objects, though it did allow the enchantment of them. Clothing of the Realm was hand sewn by low-level fairies and more plebian than what humans wore. Easier to stitch that way.

Tali donned a blue T-shirt with “Las Vegas” painted on the front and jeans. She knew jeans from HumanWatch Monthly. But HumanWatch never mentioned humans like Jake existed, humans who made you tingle. He didn’t seem malevolent, but was he a fairy? And his show—was he practicing magic in humanspace? If so, how?

Tali found a full-length mirror and turned this way and that, inspecting her attire. “These garments aren’t very fetching,” she commented to the attendant. “I heard the clothing in this country was more attractive.”

The woman tilted her head to the side. “You look so pretty in blue. I love your red hair. Miss Clairol?”

“No, Miss Smith.” Tali eyed the attendant suspiciously.

The woman offered to charge the clothing to the room, and Tali signed the bill with a flourish. She shoved her old clothing into a rustling white bag and set off to find a meal.

When she asked about restaurants, the man at the front desk directed her through the noisy, flashing casino with its many machines and acrid smell of tobacco. Several humans glanced up from their cards, dice or loud machines and gaped at her as she passed. Tali had no idea why, for she blended in well in her new jeans and T-shirt. She’d even left her snood in the room and tied her hair back with a cotton string.

The first restaurant she saw was a brightly lit dining hall called The Long Table. It swarmed with patrons, many of them aged, and a huge, fluttering sign reading “All You Can Eat Shrimp $6.99”.

Probably not her best choice. She wound through the rows of ringing machines and gambling humans. It was a maze of whistles and smoke, flashing lights and mirrors. Scantily clad women in white, their legs bare and fake wings strapped to their backs, balanced trays and plied the guests with drinks. Tali’s head swiveled, admiring the humans in all their variety.

***

Have a great Saturday! Check out my website for buy links if you're interested in SOTF or my other work.

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

More fun and games and excerpts at these authors' sites:

Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
Lacey Savage
Leah Braemel
Lauren Dane

Wisdom Comes Early

2011-08-23T14:49:00.000-07:00

Kid1 is in the fourth grade this year and has become concerned about what kind of job she's going to have when she grows up. Today we had the following conversation:

Kid1: Mom, math class was boring today. I already know the problems we're going over.

Me: Are you allowed to read or doodle if you finished your work?

Kid1: No! We have to pay attention to the teacher. I can't even write stories.

Me: That's too bad. But it is good practice for when you get a job and have to go to meetings.

Kid1: I don't want that kind of job.

Me: It might be unavoidable. Lots of jobs involve meetings.

Kid1: Well, I guess I can handle being bored as long as I don't have a job where I might blow up.

Me: ?????

Kid1: You know, if I stepped in lava or something. Volcanologist is definitely off my list, unless I can study them on computers.

Me: I see.

Kid1: It's not like you can just get a little bit of lava on you. I bet if it gets on your foot, it affects your whole body.

Me: Yes, I bet it does. [[Like the bite of a zombie, perhaps?]]

Kid1: Mom, can I have a snack?

***

Maybe she can be a photographer instead. Here are some selections from the past couple months on the digital camera we got her for Xmas:

Taken in a commercial cave we toured.

Frocs -- a still life

Giant ball of cat hair after brushing cats at Grandma's House

Self portrait. Or maybe Kid2 took it. There was screaming involved.

Not sure. Maybe a cat?

Unfortunately, I am sure what this is, and it's a certain angle of a cat as well.

Hm. Photographer might be out too.

Sincerely,

JW & Meankitty

www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

Career Milestones

2011-08-22T09:32:00.000-07:00

Did you think this was going to be about a publishing deal, hitting a bestseller list or finishing my 20th book??

Heck, no. Here's my career milestone today, and it's a doozy:

Note how there are TWO children wearing backpacks and waiting for the morning bus?

TWO TWO TWO TWO! Let's just say I skipped the "Kindergarten Parents' Boo-hoo Breakfast" at the school for fear my gleeful attitude might offend the other mommies.

Time to kick things up a notch, career. Punt me some deadlines! Well, barring any demands the new addition to my extended family might make, now officially known as Niece1. I wanted to call her Kid3, since I feel pretty possessive of her, but NannySlave is the one walking the floor with her at night, not me, so I have to call her Niece1.

As for the cats who live with Niece1, always an important factor on this blog, so far they are the only ones putting the crib to any use. Niece1 prefers to sleep on her parents or her favorite person in the world (Aunt Jody).

Sincerely,

JW
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

PS Yes, I will now be updating www.Meankitty.com with more regularity. In fact, I have already done it today! I would be encouraged to further heights of reliability and entertainment by more comments, I suspect :)

Snippet Saturday: Magic!

2011-08-20T04:35:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday the theme is magic and magical scenes. I think I'll go with Survival of the Fairest today, because the heroine's quest for much of the book was to find out whether or not humans, like fairies, could do magic. After all, she has stumbled across stage magician Jake Story and he is definitely the most magical human she's ever met! Not that she's met a lot of humans. But still. Here is a scene from chapter 4 with our heroine Tali investigating Jake's stage show...

****

The ring was close. Tali clenched her hands in her lap and felt the magic tickle her skin like a cat’s whiskers. She watched Jake Story and his assistant Jessie toss glittering balls back and forth in an intricate pattern and strained to feel any surges in power.

The only surge Tali felt was her pulse racing whenever Jake performed one of his dangerous stunts without the aid of magic. He’d had swords stuck through him, he’d had his body divided into three pieces and he’d transported himself, somehow, out of a padlocked bag in a water-filled glass chamber.

She could still feel the painful wrench of her heart when Jake, trapped in the bag and struggling to release himself from his bonds, had stopped moving. Jessie had raced across the stage, drained the water, opened the chamber, frantically untied the knot on the bag—and a huge, toy snake had sprung forth, to the stunned delight of the audience.

The whole thing was preposterous. Nerve-wracking. Exhilarating.

Right now he wasn’t doing anything risky. He wasn’t juggling knives or flaming knives or double-bladed, poison-tipped flaming knives. Just colored balls.

He hadn’t used magic so far, but he kept disappearing and reappearing. How did he do it? Why was he risking his life in such a fashion if he had no magic to save him?

Could it be Jake merely wished to please the crowd? The couple at the table next to Tali had drawn her attention away from the stage more than once.
The large man frequently added a raucous yell to the cheers of the audience. The Court instructors taught that humans as a race were barbaric, enjoyed blood sports and other primitive spectacles, and this man certainly supported that.

Was Jake’s act some human magic, some human aberration she couldn’t sense. Perhaps she could attend other shows to look for magic in humanspace, a worthy and educational venture.

Jake’s form-fitting black outfit stood out in stark contrast to the gaudy stage equipment and flashing lights. As the two men juggled, the flying objects twisted and turned in the air, catching the light, and neither of them dropped a single one. They tossed them under their legs, backwards and even one-handed. Suddenly, Jake threw up his arms, and all the balls turned into white doves, which fluttered toward the lofty ceiling. The audience oohed with appreciation and erupted into applause.

When the noise died, Jake spoke again. His gaze sought hers in the crowd, and Tali felt herself pinned to her seat.

“And now,” Jake said, his voice as dark and sensual as the recently discovered fudge, “we delve into the realm of the subconscious, the mysterious. Complete surrender. Complete hypnosis.”

From the corner of her eye, she noticed the man at the table beside her shake his head in disbelief, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away. Did Jake mean mind control? While the other five great spirits of fire, earth, water, air and ether graced the Realm with harmony, the spirit Fet’s domain wasn’t safe to tread. The mind was sacrosanct, not that anyone she knew was capable of the shadow arts. She certainly didn’t know how to control another’s mind.

His gaze bore into hers and a sudden image of the two of them wrapped in a passionate embrace, wind whipping their bodies, light flaring, flashed in her brain.

Was it possible? Jake tapped a dexterous finger against his mouth, and Tali felt warm lips press against hers and demand that she yield.

With a gasp, she rubbed her face, and the strange spell broke.

“This is the final and most precarious segment of my show,” he said. Jessie stood silently to the side as orange-clad stagehands cleared off the glittering tables, boxes and other objects. “If you’re faint of heart, if the thought of another person controlling you is abhorrent, I suggest you exit now. Once I begin, none of you shall retain the will to leave your seats.”

Many individuals shifted in their padded chairs, and a crowd of brilliantly clad young people to the left, the ones who applauded when Jessie participated in the tricks, broke into excited chatter.

“Great danger lurks when one being has ultimate power over another. I could abuse it. I could implant suggestions for you to rob banks or harm others. But fear not. I’m far too ethical to command you to empty your wallets to me.”

The audience chuckled, weakly.

Another trick. It had to be. The Doctrine of Ethical Magic Use prohibited the sixth art. Unless he was an unethical fairy—or unknowing human. Her drinking glass gleamed in the heatless light of the table candles, and Tali felt a rise of tension in the dark room.

The tight fabric of Jake’s shirt outlined his lean, muscled torso as he paced the length of the stage. Tali again sensed a mesmerizing pull.

Why would he baldly declare he intended to hypnotize everyone unless he could? Failure would make him a laughingstock. Though his show contained comic elements, like the Realm’s carnivale skits, he didn’t seem to be joking about his grand finale.

Tali considered various explanations. She didn’t mind if he were a secret agent—that was exciting—but if he were evil, like the spirit Fet… She massaged her hands in an attempt to release her building anxiety.

Jake strode to the center of the stage and placed his fists on his hips. He gazed over the heads of the crowd, his dark eyes vital and his stance commanding. “You’ve heard that an individual must be willing to be hypnotized in order for it to work. You’ve heard that a person must trust the practitioner and believe in the experience.

“I’m here to prove everyone wrong.” He threw back his long, dark hair and his white teeth flashed in an almost cruel grin.

“Let me give you a sample.” He opened his palms and closed his eyes as if channeling some mystical force, and Tali felt a corresponding leap in the magic of the ring.

“Oh, crikey!” she breathed. She’d heard that expression on the teley-vision today and it seemed appropriate. A haze descended over her mind and clouded her thinking. Was this mind control? Was this Fet’s caress?

Jake’s eyes popped open and seemed to glow. “Everyone sip your drink.”

The rustle of sleeves, the tinkle of ice, the thunk of glasses on the table sounded across the vaulted chamber as the room obeyed him. Even Tali. Even straining for the magic she could feel so close, even resisting. Her glass of Coka-Cola was empty, but she obeyed.

“Everyone smile.” Tali’s gaze fixed on Jake, and her mouth curled in a rictus of a grin.

“Everyone do something kind for someone tomorrow.” A thought implanted itself in her brain and wriggled away where she couldn’t reach it. She wanted to claw it out with her nails, but her hands wouldn’t move.

Jake clapped his hands and the whole room inhaled. In another moment they burst into applause.

They enjoyed being forced to do things not of their will? Tali fumed. Dark magic, indeed! How had no other fairies discovered this? If researchers frequented this hotel, how was it this perversion had never been shut down?

Perhaps she alone had determined what this man was doing. Perhaps she alone had the power. It wasn’t out of the question. Researchers were never more than foursies and rarely worked in sibling sets.

“And now,” Jake said, “for the final part of the demonstration. If you don’t believe in magic, raise your hand. If you think yourself my match, raise your hand. If anyone has ever declared you unhypnotizable, raise your hand. I need an unwilling volunteer, folks. Someone who thinks he or she can bring down my house of cards.”

A black velvet curtain lowered over the glitzy backdrop, and Jessie’s red costume stood out like a beacon of fire. Behind him, the cleared stage held only a single wooden chair. Tiny lights winked from the stage floor and cast huge shadows. Jake, in his black clothes, was nearly invisible and wholly mysterious. And watching her, evaluating her.

“Who shall it be tonight?” he asked. “Who will be my unwilling vassal?”

Tali sank into her chair. Crabapples. He was going to pick her.

***

Places you can buy Survival of the Fairest:

All Romance Ebooks
Amazon (paperback)
Amazon (ebook)
Barnes and Noble (paperback)
Barnes and Noble (ebook)
Diesel Ebooks
Fictionwise
Google
Kobo
Powells (ebook)
Powells (paperback)
Samhain Publishing (paperback)
Samhain Publishing (ebook)

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

MORE MAGIC ALL OVER THE INTERNETS:

McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
Lacey Savage
Sasha White
Lauren Dane
Beth-Ann Mason
Shiloh Walker
Eliza Gayle
Myla Jackson
Alison Kent

Meankitty Wants to Know: Dee Tenorio's Thursday Thirteen

2011-08-18T04:49:00.000-07:00

Today in my Meankitty Interview series, we're doing two unusual things. One, we're posting on a Thursday instead of a Monday. Two, we are interviewing author Dee Tenorio, which isn't unusual, but did you know Ms. Tenorio was also an artist? While it is possible we have interviewed romance authors who were also artists before, this is the first time the author/artist has taken it upon herself to prove it so emphatically. You'll see what we mean below. But now, on to the questions.

1) Why did you decide to be a writer instead of a cat sanctuary owner?

Well, I didn't have a cat when I decided to be a writer. I did, at one time, have 3 cats, and I have learned that being cat property also meant being suffocated while two cats fought to sleep on my face. So, I figured it might be safer to limit myself to one pet at a time.

2) Why do you think cats are better than dogs? (Since you call yourself a writer, I trust your answer will be eloquent.)

LOL, well, I'll be honest. I love cats AND dogs. I know, I know, it's not a popular view here to say I love dogs, but I'm all about equality.

3) Why is your household currently deprived of a cat, and what's this I hear about dual (duelling?) "pink things" (small humans)?

The reason I'm catless at the moment is because my son—another one of my "pink things" you mentioned—is deathly allergic to them. The "dueling pink things" are my twin daughters, Trouble & Shatner, who are epic escape artists. Trouble, you'll be pleased to note, is most often described as a cat—she comes when she wants, not when she's called, no matter what I do. She's not at all interested in any one else's schedule, frequently lays on my computer or my head and gives fabulous bored gazes. You'd love her.

4) Tell me about the felines in your fiction. How often do they appear and how big a part do they play in your narratives?

Well, I don't have many felines, no, but in my current release, "Deceiving The Protector", I introduce the first feline shifter of the Resurrection series, Betha. I have a free read planned for her and an amnesiac guard. There's going to be much growling, hissing and tree-scratching in that, let me tell you. Look for it in the spring. :)

5) On the off-chance you have yet to incorporate cats into your fiction, when or how do you plan to rectify this egregious error and demonstration of poor writing skills?

Well, I should probably add that I have a story in the wings with Tiger shifters, too. The heroine, in particular, is more deadly than you can imagine. :) (Figured you'd like that)

6) You wouldn't ever put hot wax meant for human legs on a cat, would you? For any reason ever? But maybe on a dog?

Oh dear God, NO, lol. I barely survived my hot-wax excursion. A cat or dog? Nope. Not ever.

7) How easy do you think it would be for a cat to break a PRISM Award sitting on a high-ish shelf?

Actually, it would be frighteningly easy to break. That's why I keep mine in the box on top of my entertainment center. I'm looking into a laser operated security system, in case any of the neighborhood cats get any ideas.

8) Why did you write books for Carina Press involving DOG shifters instead of the much more awesome CAT shifters you could have used? And is it your fault my Typing Slave insulted me by selling a dog shifter book to Carina recently too?

I can't take credit for your Typing Slave—YAY Typing Slave!!—but I will say I started off with dogs (wolves) over cats because the heroes needed to be Wolfie in their personalities. Lots of cranky dog behavior and protectiveness. I mean, I love cats, but they don't guard your bed in quite the same way.

9) What are your favorite works of fiction or cinema involving cats or favorite fictional cats?

Believe it or not, one of my earliest movie memories is of the movie "Cat People". I'm still not sure what the hell was happening in that movie, but there was this really gorgeous woman who turned into a black panther. Just like that, my future in paranormal writing was set.

10) Do you have any amazing, or at least humorous, real life cat stories you'd like to share? Barring cat stories, you may share stories about dogs embarrassing themselves if you like.

Well, this is really my hubby's story. See, he had a friend who had like 3 or 4 cats at all times—honest, it was a guy!—but we knew about our son's allergy already, so hubby always had to visit alone. You can imagine my concern when he came home with his shirt all shredded in the front, so he told me what happened...

You see, his friend's cat was in love with him.

When he went to visit, he'd sit on the couch and invariably the cat would come rub herself all over him. This time, she soon started licking his face like he was the last piece of meat in the state. At first, it was cute—as you know, cats don't often lick people. But as the tongue bath continued, Hubby started to chafe. He tried to discourage the loving kitty, or at least get her to move, but he only got her to switch sides of his face.

Now, I can't really blame her, he's a tasty sumnagun, but well...her was a'scratchin up the wrong post.

After a good half-hour, he finally asked for help. So his friend came over and had to pry the clinging cat from hubby's shirt, which had claw holed all up and down as the cat screeched to stay with her new Love.

Suffice it to say, kitty had to stay outside for future visits and that holey shirt? Well it never saw the light of day again. Folks might think I did that to him. (What? That's my story and I'm sticking with it!)

11) All right -- you seem to know a lot about being trapped in elevators after earthquakes. Would you rather be trapped in an elevator with: 5 dogs, 5 cats, 5 kids under the age of 5, an elephant, a leaking cargo container of radioactive waste, a ceiling full of bats that aren't awake...yet, your worst nightmare, or a bunch of teenage girls who are missing their big meet and greet with that movie star from that movie. Be sure and explain your logic! Illustrations and charts welcome.

Hmmm, it would have to be the 5 cats. I'll show you why, if you don't mind stick figures and lined paper.

12) Do you like chicken and tuna (for eating, not as pets)?

I do rather like chicken, but I HATE Chicken Soup. Tuna, I can only eat mixed with Pico de Gallo and tortilla chips.

Both would be dinner in a day or two if I had to have them as pets, though, lol.

13) Did you know it's been clinicially proven (by me) that writers with cats make more money and are happier in general?

I didn't know that, lol, but it's definitely a great reason to get a cat!

***

If you'd like to know more about Dee, here is where you can find out why she writes serial killers: http://carinapress.com/blog/2011/08/multiple-mom-or-why-i-write-serial-killers/

Here is her website: http://www.deetenorio.com/index.php

Here is her Twitter feed: http://twitter.com/DeeTenorio

No word yet on whether Ms. Tenorio will be illustrating her next book herself, but I'd say odds are in her favor if anyone from one of her publishers sees this.

Sincerely,
Meankitty & Typing Slave
www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

Snippet Saturday: Public Scene

2011-08-13T04:39:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday the theme is public scenes. In One Thousand Kisses, our hero Embor Fiertag is Primary of the Realm (along with his twin sister) and prides himself on his willingness to interact with his "public". Thus, I have chosen this scene where he is doing just that for today's snippet. From Chapter Three:

***

The laundry fairy accepted Embor’s bundle of soiled fabric with a scowl. “This reeks. What have you been doing, Primary?”

Embor raised an eyebrow but explained since it might help her cleanse the fabric. “I encountered the Serendipity triplets.”

“In a pigsty?” The tiny blonde cast a stasis spell on the bundle to prevent cross contamination.

“In the garden.” All Court members had PAs to lighten the workload, but since the Incident, it was frowned on for anyone to distance themselves from basic survival skills. For Embor that meant handling personal business like laundry himself. Sometimes.

“Well, don’t do it again.” She tossed his clothing down a chute.

“It’s not on my schedule.” His upcoming meeting with Jake would hopefully be free of children. And Talista. He stifled an abrupt yawn and frowned.

Happily, she missed his display of weakness. She scribbled his name in a paper book, a method of recordkeeping in vogue since the Incident as well. Much had changed in the past forty years.

“Do you know how hard it is to get whites white?” she complained. “Who decided white exercise clothes were a good idea anyway?”

The question seemed rhetorical so he didn’t respond.

“Your sib’s outfits are bad enough,” she continued. “If she’d dress like a decent fairy, I wouldn’t spend more time on her clothing than anyone else’s at Court. Don’t think I didn’t notice that yellow leather outfit. Leather! Might as well have been wearing a meat sack. What is wrong with her?”

Another rhetorical question, he hoped. He abhorred Skythia’s garish clothing as well but didn’t want to go on record as having stated it.

The woman regarded him with a craftiness that didn’t match her apple cheeks and corkscrew curls. “I might not be able to get these done in time for your next workout.”

Embor drew himself up to his full height. “I have several sets.”

“The others aren’t ready either. You’ve been exercising so much lately. One might think you were working off steam.”

That was no secret. Court became contentious as Primary assessments approached. At least he’d quit attempting to convince the Elders to fund a full-scale humanspace search mission and had redirected his energies. They were foolish to ignore the danger posed by the renegade agents and their insider knowledge about the AOC. Embor was many things, but he wasn’t a fool.

But he did need to enhance his stamina with moderate exercise. If he encountered Anisette in the gardens at the same time, well, he was fond of multitasking.

“A logical conclusion,” he conceded. “I am the Primary. There is stress involved.” He seemed to be informing people of this a lot lately.

“You’re not coming here to visit with me, that’s for certain. I’m surprised you haven’t paid for pick-up and delivery.”

“An unnecessary expense for something my assistant or I can handle.” Interacting with citizens like the laundress allowed him the opportunity to gauge his constituency. He spoke to at least one voter on a weekly basis.

“Skythia doesn’t worry about thrift. So what’ll it be, Elder?”

Always there were hidden fees. “I can offer—”

“Ten transportation globes, Realm-wide. And information.”

“Information?” Globes he’d expected. But information?

“That’s my new rate for next-day delivery.” Banging and clattering echoed up the chute. She opened the wooden door and stuck her head in the hole. “What in the gnome-stick are you doing down there?”

“Tripped!” a voice echoed up the shaft.

“We’re training another sorter,” she told Embor. “Laundry’s big business with the influx of human clothes, and hardly anyone can do it. But now let’s talk about you.”

“Your sibs don’t ask ten globes for a job they’re already well-paid to do.” Many Court services were privatized, the suppliers allotted a base amount from the treasury.

“My sibs couldn’t magic a water stain out of a dishrag.” She slammed her book closed and placed another on top of it. “Do you want clean clothes or not?”

He crossed his arms. “What’s your clan name?”

“Serendipity.” She smiled. “We’re small, but we’re loud.”

He could see the resemblance to Talista, if not Anisette. “Seeking information about Court activities could be considered treasonous.”

She laughed. “That’s not the kind of information I want.”

Was it so important to chat with a constituent this week? He didn’t have time for this. There was an Elder Court session in three days, and he had to prepare new arguments, consult with his cabinet, attend some negotiations with Greenland, sit advisory in the Younger Court on judicial matters, consider an appointment with his physician about his sleep issues; meet with Jake Story about their clandestine project, coordinate with the Commission for Truth about the AOC, insinuate himself into Princess Anisette’s good graces and banish Warran of Clan Torval. For something.

***

Places to buy One Thousand Kisses (ebook):

All Romance Ebooks
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Books on Board
Diesel Ebooks
Fictionwise
Google Books
Mobipocket
Powells
Samhain Publishing
Sony

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

For more public scenes, be sure to visit the following authors and say hello to some of the new Snippet Saturday posters in the list!

Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
Lacey Savage
Sasha White
Jody Wallace
Leah Braemel
Lauren Dane
Beth-Ann Mason
Shiloh Walker
Denise A. Agnew
Eliza Gayle
Alison Kent

Sometimes the Ants Come Marching

2011-08-11T19:49:00.000-07:00

Food Slave has been puttering around the back door a lot lately, the one through which I like to threaten the lives of ONS cats, birds, and the occasional squirrel. He's nailed on weatherstripping, sprayed some kind of foamy stuff I'm not supposed to eat in the cracks, sprayed nasty tasting orange "ant-b-gone" in the cracks... It's like his favorite new place to hang out. Seems he's on this quest to stop the ants from coming into the house. Nevermind that they're kind of fun to chase when I'm in the mood and they really don't bother Big D and myself at all. Nope, he's decided it's just not good to have ants in the house.

While I appreciate his affection for hanging out in that particular spot, because I like to hang out there as well, I'm not so sure I appreciate his latest effort at combatting the ants.

How are the small humans supposed to get out the back door and fill up the bird bath so Big D and I can yell at birds? How is Food Slave supposed to go on the back porch and grill delicious meat that Typing Slave then sneaks and feeds me under the table while telling the kids, "DO NOT FEED THE CATS"?

Humans, right? They just don't think ahead.

Sincerely,
Meankitty
www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

Meankitty Wants to Know: Rose Gordon

2011-08-08T05:53:00.000-07:00

Today we have interviewed a writer named Rose Gordon who has been testing out the delights of the self-publishing world with her historical romances.

1) Why did you decide to be a writer instead of a cat sanctuary owner?

Because I’m lazy. I figured there were not nearly as many pressing responsibilities involved with writing books then taking care of cats.

2) Why do you think cats are better than dogs or sugar gliders? (Since you call yourself a writer, I trust your answer will be eloquent.)

The answer to this won’t be very eloquent, I’m afraid, but it will be frank. Cats use a litterbox, Sugar Gliders do not! Yuck!

3) Why is your household currently deprived of a cat, and how much would a cat love to "watch" your tank of fancy fish?

My household is deprived of a cat because my little boys--ages four and five--would torture any poor kitty that so much as put a paw in the front door! However, if a cat could survive stepping over legos, dodging projectiles in the form of GI Joes with a makeshift parachute (AKA my fancy cloth napkins), heavy petting (get your mind out of the litterbox), and having an occasional “juice bath”, then I’d imagine that kitty would love to look at my 55 gallon fish tank stocked with tetras, sharks and even an CATfish.

4) Tell me about the felines in your fiction. How often do they appear and how big a part do they play in your narratives?

Well, this is a tricky question, I’m afraid. I have only one cat-like creature in my books. Her name is Lady Olivia. She’s a rather nasty character who likes to sharpen her claws from time to time in my prose.

5) On the off-chance you have yet to incorporate cats into your fiction, when or how do you plan to rectify this egregious error and demonstration of poor writing skills?

All right, you got me. I have not written about a real cat. Yet. Hmmm, I am currently writing a book where the hero has three young daughters and is looking for them a mother, this has all the makings of a family in need of a pet...

6) If you were going to edit one of your books to include a cat as a main character or important secondary character, which book would it be and how would you enact this awesome revision?

I wouldn’t. To be honest, I have such love and respect for the felines of this world I couldn’t possibly put them through the havoc I bring about to my main characters.

7) Have you incorporated any tarantulas into your fiction or possibly nonfiction blog posts or artistic renderings?

Wow, thanks for the great idea... I think I’ll have Harry make an appearance in one of my novels. I don’t typically write books or blog posts about tarantulas. However, I have owned and buried (complete with a thirty minute funeral) three tarantulas. Cuddly little creatures, to be sure.

8) What are your favorite works of fiction or cinema involving cats or favorite fictional cats?

The Aristocats, of course! *Everybody, everybody wants to be a cat! Everybody, everybody wants to be a cat!*

9) Do you have any amazing, or at least humorous, cat stories you'd like to share? Barring cat stories, you may share stories about dogs embarrassing themselves if you like.

Well, this isn’t necessarily about a dog embarrassing himself, but me. When I was 18 I was a poor college student doing odd jobs for money. One day the pastor from my church asked me to come over and rake his leaves. I did then he gave me his pool skimmer and asked me to get the leaves out of the pool. I started working and his giant golden retriever came running up behind and started...er...acting out his urges on my my thigh. I tried to step away, and the dog just got more aggressive and the next thing I know, the randy dog and I are in the pool!

10) What's creepier -- tarantulas loose all over your house, a flock of sugar gliders, or weird, stalkery emails from fans?

The sugar gliders hands down. Ick.

11) How does your tank of cat snacks, I mean, fish inspire you to be a better writer?

My computer is positioned close to my fish tank--well, close enough anyway, as I type I can hear the gurgling which reminds me if I don’t write a good book, those fish will die! I won’t have money for their food, or new filters, or algae treatment, or the heater to keep their water warm...Oh my, the list goes on and on, it breaks my heart just thinking about all the horrible things that might happen to my fish if I don’t write a good story.

12) Do you think, besides the whiskers, CATfish really deserve to be associated with the superior (aka feline) race?

*Ducks head in shame* No. And quite frankly, he was a bad investment. Though it’s fun to say we have a catfish in our tank, he’s very elusive. He (or she?) spends all day, and night, hiding in the decorations.

13) How do you think writers are like cats?

Both understand the passive-aggressive personality trait to a T. Writers write characters with it and cats just plain have it!

14) Where can we find out more about you and your books?

I have a website: www.rosegordonromance.com
Also, a blog: http://rosesromanceramblings.wordpress.com
Books can be found at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Rose-Gordon/e/B004QXMVHW/ref=sr_tc_ep?qid=1311001183
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/c/rose-gordon
As well as several other ebooksellers such as Sony, Diesel, and iBooks

***

Sincerely,
Meanktty & Typing Slave
www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

It's Worse With A Dog

2011-08-02T20:24:00.000-07:00

Hello. Meankitty here. I'm thinking of starting a new blog series called "It's Better with a Cat" where authors send me excerpts and I fix them. Some people might call it "cattification" but since I would be making it better, I would be doing the authors a favor. Would any of you like to participate? You can let me know privately, via email, if you're too embarrassed to admit in the comments that you know it would be better if I fixed your excerpt or blurb or synopsis or whatever for you by catting it up.

Another thought. If you have a series called "It's Better with a Cat", you also need a series called "It's Worse with a Dog".

Typing Slave's friend Elly Fisher has a dog. Originally she had one dog until this happened:

http://ellenfisherjournal.blogspot.com/2008/07/shakes-head-at-dog.html

I'll wait here while you read up.

After that, I believe she ended up getting a second dog to keep the first dog occupied. It's worse with a dog, I'm telling ya!

Sincerely,
Meankitty
www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

Snippet Saturday: Travel

2011-07-30T05:44:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday the theme is travel. In Survival of the Fairest, our dear heroine, Talista, gets herself into a huge mess because of her travel-jones. Here is she going AWOL in Las Vegas -- and humanspace -- for the first time. She's a fairy, from the Realm, and has never been in the human world.

***

Tali’s first taste of the city was a dusty, acrid odor that scraped her throat like sandpaper. She doubled over with coughs, and her heavy backpack shifted off her shoulders and nearly twisted her to the hard, black ground.

“Hella’s teat!” She cursed and hacked until she was gasping for breath. Her overstuffed snood rested like a brick against the back of her neck. The air was hot as Ka. Finally, panting, she straightened and glanced around her.

She’d hassled her survival teammates in the Bitterroot Wilderness until they stormed off and promptly used the fairy ring’s tiny conduit of power to transport here—just like she’d suspected she could do. She’d materialized in a scorching expanse of automobiles with giant buildings lining the perimeter. Alone. Good. If humans had witnessed her abrupt arrival, it would have violated the Policy of Discretion the Court insisted its citizens follow in humanspace. Never let humans see you cast spells. Never let humans know you’re anything other than perfectly…human. Tali could see the wisdom in that.

She shrugged her gear back onto her shoulders. Dang, it was hot! She wished she could knot her skirts, but she should check current human fashions first. Since she was here to blend, it wouldn’t do to appear unseemly.

She saved all her unseemliness for Court, where it was more amusing.

Now that her coughing fit was over, she heard the faint babble of voices and growl of machines on the other side of the largest building. She headed in that direction with a bounce to her step. The sun was repulsive, the smells unnatural, but she was free and unsupervised in one of the most legendary human cities of all. Her heart soared at the thought of it.

On a wave of triumph, Tali skipped between the parked automobiles. Red vehicles, white vehicles, vehicles with giant wheels—there were as many types of autos as there were humans. A flicker of movement at the base of the closest building caught Tali’s eye, and her heart jumped into her throat.

A woman in a maroon vest and trousers emerged through a metal door. She leaned against the wall beside the doorway and lit a small cigar.

Her first human! Tali tried not to jitter with excitement. Instead, she approached the woman and curtsied, the proper greeting between equals in the Realm.

“Fair met,” she said. The female had short hair. Most upper-level fairies didn’t cut their hair. She hoped her long red mop wouldn’t mark her as unusual.

The woman lifted her chin in a nod. “Hey.” Smoke floated out her nostrils as if she were a dragon.

“Would you happen to know where the main avenue is?” One of the reasons she’d chosen Las Vegas for her adventure was because it was a tourist city. Her Realm-tinged accent and irregularities in disguise wouldn’t stand out here.

“Strip’s on the other side of the Trop.” The woman didn’t offer further details, so Tali acted like that was all the information she, savvy human tourist, required.

The building in front of her grew taller and taller the closer she walked until she nearly had to bend over backwards to see the top. It was far taller than any building in the Realm. The silvered walls boasted innumerable windows with lights at the corners. Tali found a path around the building that led to a street. Cars zipped down it with abandon.

HumanWatch Monthly hadn’t mentioned this dreadful climate in its article about Las Vegas.

****

One of the things I loved about writing Tali was that she's kind of a terd. She's not entirely immature -- hopefully not TSTL -- but she definitely has flaws!

Here's where you can buy your own copy of Tali's travelogue:

All Romance Ebooks
Amazon (paperback)
Amazon (ebook)
Barnes and Noble (paperback)
Barnes and Noble (ebook)
Diesel Ebooks
Fictionwise
Google
Kobo
Powells (ebook)
Powells (paperback)
Samhain Publishing (paperback)
Samhain Publishing (ebook)

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

MOAR TRAVEL!

Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
Delilah Devlin
Lacey Savage
Sasha White
Shelli Stevens
T.J. Michaels

Insult, Injury, Injustice: She's Writing About DOGS

2011-07-26T17:52:00.000-07:00

So, Typing Slave is all giddy because she just sent off some paper documents with a lot of legalese on them to some place called Carina Press. Seems she wrote a paranormal romance she thought would be a good fit there. Features some good-looking guy named "Harry" who likes to hang out in this tea room in West Virginia with a bunch of old ladies. Sounds good so far, but then, in the very first page, we find out that HARRY is some kind of stenchy DOG SHIFTER (aka werewolf) instead of, I don't know, a panther or an alien or a fairy or something that doesn't taint the very air I, Meankitty, like to breathe.

I'm going to have to force her to write another couple books about cats before I can get over this crap.

Here's her stupid blurb, or at least the stupid thing she was putting on queries:

Harry Smith, werewolf about town, likes working on cars, eating good food--that somebody else cooks--and making love to pretty women. When the female alpha of the local pack tries to force him to step up as their male alpha, Harry is rescued by a woman who says she knows him, but he’s damn sure he doesn’t know her. And this magic she can do? He doesn’t know about that, either. All he knows is he’d rather die than be trapped in a wolf pack forever, an existence his mother sacrificed herself to help him escape. If it means getting into a stupid car and letting a girl drive, he’ll try anything once.

June, a powerful witch, has always agreed with coven law--don’t lay down with wolves or you might get fleas. As such, she’s never acted on her feelings for Harry. She’s never even officially introduced herself. Yet when he’s threatened, she realizes she’s willing to go against everything she believes to save him from the pack bond. The problem is, he’s not supposed to know about witches, she’s not supposed to collude with wolves, and nobody’s supposed to let the humans know witches and shifters exist.

Can Harry and June combine Harry’s independent streak and June’s magic to escape the anger of pack and coven--without succumbing to the desire June knows she can never indulge?

Probable release date: February 20, 2012
Probable book length: Between 70K and 90K -- hey, she hasn't done edits yet!
Probable book title: Pack and Coven
Probable insult to injury: if she doesn't even put in some sneaky Easter Egg about how cats are better than dogs

***

Typing Slave should be ASHAMED.

Sincerely,

Meankitty
www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

Snippet Saturday: Homage...To Fairy Tales

2011-07-16T05:29:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday the theme is homages, and I'm going to talk about the book I wrote that is an homage to "The Twelve Dancing Princesses" -- the whole book. Some of you may already know this, but A Spell For Susannah is based on that particular fairy tale. It was my first published novel and my first book with Samhain Publishing. Here's the blurb:

About the book:

A not ready for Disney fairy tale!

Princess Susannah is the eldest of twelve sisters who discovered a land beneath their palace that definitely has an edge over the Middle Kingdoms: the secret land is chock full of princes who just love to dance. A fairy cursed the Middle Kingdoms nobility to bear no more male children, and the human lands are on the verge of anarchy.

Susannah, alone among mortals, discovers she can work fairy magic, but it's just another secret she has to keep from her parents. When the King and Queen employ Jon Tom, a very handsome detective, to discover where the princesses sneak and go dancing every night, Susannah finds herself wanting to tell him all her secrets.

The problem is, when Susannah's secrets go public, the fairies are going to come looking for her, and they won't be happy.

Warning: this title contains the following: hot sex, hot springs sex, hot-to-trot women and patriarchal hardheadedness.

***

While prologues are not currently in style for a lot of fiction genres, I did choose to give SFS a prologue to establish, with the reader, just which fairy tale they were going to be reading about today and just how I'd created a world so that the paticular fairy tale could exist in it. Because I always wondered... How in the world could a King and Queen (human, one presumes) have 12 natural-born daughters, yet no mention of sons? Maybe the dancing princesses were adopted. Maybe it was some kind of biological anomaly or miracle. Or maybe...

***

The final sovereign of the Middle Kingdoms signed the petition with a flourish and then fanned the ink to dry it before handing it to the footman. The youngest of the thirteen kings, he was a handsome man with dark brown hair and a neat beard.

“Well done!” The Emperor accepted the completed document and unrolled it to its full length, nodding his head in approval. The charmed parchment, when signed by all thirteen human kings and their Emperor and witnessed by three representatives from the Fairy Alliance for Ethics, would bind the fairy Malady from the human lands, in particular from attending any more christenings with her nasty little gifts.

“It was your child upon whom Malady bestowed her final curse, so it is fitting you be the one to summon the Fairy Alliance to hear our judgment.” The Emperor handed the pearl and ruby conch shell to the youngest king.

“Thank you, Your Splendor.” The man raised the device to his lips and blew several short, eerie blasts. Almost immediately, three fairies materialized in the center of the golden throne room. The breeze of their arrival ruffled the heavy crimson hangings along the long walls and set the tiered chandelier tinkling.

“We’ve been expecting your summons,” Pleasentia said, swishing her gauze dress and smiling at the men gathered in the darkened room.

“Hurry and get this over with.” The fairy Budbud snapped her wizened fingers, and in them appeared a large gold seal. “Recite the document, sprinkle on the fairy dust and let us ratify it. We’ve better things to be doing during the blue moon’s night.”

The third fairy held a crumpet dripping with jam. “Is this about Mali?” Gary asked, licking his fingers. “You know, her gifts really don’t—”

“We don’t want to hear any more of your excuses!” thundered the Emperor. “We have the right to bar specific fairies from our midst if we so choose. In fact we have the right to bar all fairies from the human lands, and then where would you get your precious gold?”

“Oh, do shut up, Hubert, and get on with it,” Budbud said. “We all know you aren’t going to ban all the fairies. You want our spells as much as we want your gold.”

The Emperor flushed and cleared his throat. He began to recite the document, which cast the first threads of the spell that would prohibit Malady from entering human lands until the parchment was burned three times with the feather of a red gold phoenix.

“We the people…”

“They always start their documents that way. Why do they do that?” whispered Pleasentia.

“Hush, dear.” Gary patted her hand. “Let them have their fun.”

“We the people, in order to maintain a more solid union, to provide for the common defense of ourselves and our posterity, do hereby declare the fairy Malady banned and barred from the Middle Kingdoms forthwith. She is forbidden from attending the christenings of any human children, be they noble or common, even if those christenings take place outside the Middle Kingdoms, and should she seek to harm, injure or otherwise take revenge upon any human, let her—”

In a blast of light followed by a billow of reeking smoke, the fairy in question exploded into the vaulted throne room, her wiry hair standing on end. She stamped her feet upon the crimson carpet and the walls trembled.

“What charade is this?” she cried. “Banning me, the great Malady, from your puny human lands?”

The Emperor stared at the wicked sprite in dismay, his mouth hanging open, as the other occupants of the room coughed and waved tendrils of smoke from their faces.

“Keep reading, Your Splendor!” insisted the youngest king. “We shall not traffic with her. Let her see how she likes bargaining with the Sun Demons for her precious gold.” But the Emperor let the parchment droop in his grasp.

“Better not make that face, Hubert.” Malady cackled, raised a hand and an icy globule of magic appeared in it. She hurled it at the Emperor, striking him in the head and immobilizing him. “It might freeze that way!”

Budbud harrumphed. “Always butting in where you aren’t invited. You leave these humans be!”

“I will not!” screeched the black-haired fairy. “I curse these humans! I curse them and the horses they rode in on!”

“Can’t we leave the horses out of it?” asked Gary. “What did they ever do to you?”

“Okay, scratch the part about the horses.” Malady sketched some glowing runes in the air before she wiped them out with a quick hand. “But as for these foolish humans, these so-called nobles who reject my gifts, let them be forever cursed!”

Since the other kings were too intimidated to move, the young king beside the Emperor snatched the document from his limp hands. “We the people, yes, yes,” he said, racing through the text.

“Let them never bear another male child—” shrieked Malady.

“If she should seek revenge, blah blah, let her be banished by the representatives of the Fairy Alliance who stand here—” shouted the king.

“Let them bear only female children from this day forward—”

“Banished to east of the sun and west of the moon for a thousand years and a day!”

“Only girl babies for every king, every duke, every single noble in your stupid, pitiful lands!”

“So be it rote!” The young king snatched the philter of fairy dust from a gaping footman and doused the parchment.

“So be it rote,” echoed the twelve kings.

“Mmmfh!” rasped the Emperor.

“So be it rote,” agreed the three fairies, who’d observed the chant-off with great interest. Budbud hopped onto the Emperor’s dais and stamped the document with the golden seal. A ripple of pale light bloomed outward from the paper, dissipating as quickly as it appeared.

Upon the completion of the banishment, Malady doubled over with hateful laughter. Still chortling, she exploded out of the throne room in much the same way she entered, leaving a burned patch on the crimson rug.

With a gasp, the Emperor tore the icy skein from his face. “Surely that curse won’t stick,” he panted. “Will it?”

***

It did. Oh yes, it did.

Places to buy A Spell for Susannah:

All Romance Ebooks
Amazon (paperback)
Amazon (ebook)
Barnes and Noble (paperback)
Barnes and Noble (ebook)
Diesel Ebooks
Fictionwise
Google
Kobo
Powells (ebook)
Powells (paperback)
Samhain Publishing (paperback)
Samhain Publishing (ebook)

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Other Homages (but probably not to fairy tales):

Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
Lacey Savage

Kitty Patty Cake

2011-07-14T12:45:00.000-07:00

Video worth watching:

Speaks for itself.

Sincerely,
Meankitty
www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

Meankitty Really Wants to Know: Jody Wallace

2011-07-05T12:32:00.001-07:00

All this time and Meankitty never has interviewed Typing Slave! Well, over at the Naughty Nine Novelists' blog, she has done so: http://ninenaughtynovelists.blogspot.com/?zx=3b2d9c610d3cd08e

Sincerely,
MK & TS
www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

Snippet Saturday: Family

2011-07-02T06:36:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday the theme is family. And what bigger family have I written about than the twelve princesses and their parents in A SPELL FOR SUSANNAH? Not only that, but it was my first published novel and I was thinking about it tonight as a group of friends and I watched the tweets from the RITA and Golden Heart Awards scroll past at the 2011 National RWA Conference. The best first book in 2011 (of first books entered into the RITA awards) was Pieces of Sky by Kaki Warner (all winners listed at http://www.rwa.org/cs/2011_RITA_GH_winners)

Anyway, that's why I'm sharing an excerpt from A SPELL FOR SUSANNAH today.

***

Chapter One

And so it came to pass that the noble inhabitants of the Middle Kingdoms bore no more male children. Ten, twenty, thirty years, and still no male children were delivered to swell their ranks and inherit their lands. The aristocracy tried, how they tried, but daughters alone did they have. Daughters who had fewer and fewer men to marry each year. Daughters trapped by the Kingdom Laws, which decreed women could hold no property nor titles independent of men. Daughters who must remain at home until married. Daughters who grew restless.

Susannah groaned when the Queen slammed open the closely guarded door to her bedchamber and punched the button that made the wrought-iron oil lamps pop on. Their penetrating light joined with the bang of the door and squeak of the hinges to wake her from some much-needed slumber.

“Mother,” Susannah said, “do you have to be so loud?” All twelve sisters, from oldest to youngest, shared a room so they could be guarded more efficiently.

The Queen clanged her toad-headed cane on the closest iron footboard in the two rows of beds. “Yes, I do.” The cane bounced off the footboard and into Susannah’s toes.

Susannah curled her legs up and sighed. Tendrils of a pleasant dream about waltzing with the enchanted princes in the secret land below the castle unraveled before her tightly closed eyes.

As usual on the mornings when the twelve princesses lay abed, Susannah’s mother was not pleased. “I don’t suppose any of you ladies will tell me why you’re so tired this morning?”

Several of her sisters stuck their pillows over their heads. Eyes gummy from lack of sleep, Susannah rolled out of bed, but none of the rest moved.

The Queen whacked her cane on the next footboard in the row. “Get your royal bottoms out of bed!” She rapped out their responsibilities for the day. “Calypso, Peter, Hortense—shopkeeper visits. Fay, Esme, Annabelle—library. Lilly, Nina, Temple—castle accounts. Ella, Rosa—herb gardens.”

No one budged.

The Queen stalked to the middle of the long room. The square stones and wooden beams of the ceiling echoed her words with chill precision. “If you persist with this disobedience, I’m going to start giving you away to the first men who ask for you, commoners or no.”

At that, Hortense sat up. “Kingdom Law Number 333 states that those of noble blood cannot be wedded to those of common blood unless that individual performs some quest or feat which earns him or her elevation to the ranks of nobility.”

“Besides, Papa won’t let you,” Susannah reminded her mother. “You’ve been trying that for years.”

***

Places to buy A Spell for Susannah:

All Romance Ebooks
Amazon (paperback)
Amazon (ebook)
Barnes and Noble (paperback)
Barnes and Noble (ebook)
Diesel Ebooks
Fictionwise
Google
Kobo
Powells (ebook)
Powells (paperback)
Samhain Publishing (paperback)
Samhain Publishing (ebook)

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

More Familial Excerpts:

Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
Delilah Devlin
Sasha White
Shelli Stevens
T.J. Michaels

What's Up With Larry?

2011-06-29T08:33:00.000-07:00

Writers' brains are arguably different from the brains of other humans. Today I woke up wondering what was up with Larry of Young MC's "Bust a Move" fame. Why did Larry have to ask his brother's best friend (the main character of the song) to be the best man in his wedding? Did Larry not have any friends of his own? Verse in question:

Your best friend Harry has a brother Larry
In five days from now he's gonna marry
He's hopin you can make it there if you can
'Cause in the ceremony you'll be the best man
You say "neato"... check your libido
And roll to the church in your new tuxedo
The bride walks down just to start the wedding
And there's one more girl you won't be getting
So you start thinkin, then you start blinkin
A bride maid looks and thinks that you're winkin
She thinks you're kinda cute so she winks back
And now you're feelin really fine cus the girl is stacked
Reception's jumpin, bass is pumpin
Look at the girl and your heart starts thumpin
Says she wants to dance to a different groove
Now you know what to do g, bust a move

Taken from: http://www.lyricsondemand.com/onehitwonders/bustamovelyrics.html

However, when I typed "Best friend Harry has a brother Larry" into Google to snag a copy of the song lyrics, my brain refusing to dredge up the title of the song at that moment, imagine my surprise when others before me had ALSO pondered this existential question.

What was up with Larry?

"Though Young MC is completely logical throughout most of this song––he's absolutely right, in most situations, you should bust a move––things get a little confusing in the last verse."
-- Taken from http://www.avclub.com/articles/inventory-seven-songs-with-factual-or-logical-mist,1536/

"The whole wedding frankly sounds very sketchy to me."
-- Taken from http://gallivantingmonkey.blogspot.com/2005/06/harrys-brother-larrys-questionable.html

"This is so vague, it always throws me off. Who's getting married? Is it your best friend Harry, or is brother Larry?"
-- Taken from http://www.reidaboutit.com/2009/03/worst-songsever.html (though I passionately disagree that "Bust a Move" is one of the worst songs ever)

"YOU ARE THE WORST “BEST” MAN, EVER. Did you even throw Larry a bachelor party? Or did Larry just have to “hope”?"
--Taken from http://www.jenisfamous.com/dev/2008/07/2241.html

Even Yahoo wants to know:

"What, Larry doesn't have any friends so he's just gonna borrow Harry's?"
-- Taken from http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20090512132943AAu7lEt

And now I am going to make a fresh cup of coffee and contemplate the lyrics to Mmm-Bop.

Sincerely,

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Gross. Don't Do That Again.

2011-06-27T14:28:00.000-07:00

I bet you thought this post was going to be about cats or kids, didn't you? Well, it's about cooking, and it's actually a link to Selena Robins' site where she shared some recipes by various authors, one of which is by me. Go read it and see why my blog title is appropriate. (Hint: it's not because of the OTHER authors' recipes!)

http://selenarobinsmusings.wordpress.com/fellow-authors-delicious-recipes/

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Snippet Saturday: A Dream

2011-06-25T05:26:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday the theme is dreams. I'm going to share a very short snippet from our dear Embor Fiertag, Primary of the Fey Realm (at least in One Thousand Kisses), who is having a little issue with sleep disturbances, aka nightmares. In my fairy world, fairies don't have nightmares unless they're pretty imbalanced, and while Embor had them for awhile after his kidnapping in Survival of the Fairest, which takes place five or so years before One Thousand Kisses, he hasn't had them since. I must say, he chooses to deal with them in a VERY mature fashion:

***

After reinforcing the invisible perimeter around Anisette’s room, his next step was to take an energy pill. He had to convene an emergency meeting with Skythia and their cabinet about the Torvals, and it wouldn’t do if they sensed his depletion. He’d gotten the tiny globes from an unofficial source when the sleep disturbances had resurfaced. They masked the symptoms but weren’t a cure.

In fact, one might argue they were an ailment unto themselves, but he had to have them. He had to appear hale and hearty. The globes were provisional.

He had no idea why the dreams had returned, with such peculiar leanings. He thought he’d eliminated them. These dreams weren’t identical to the originals, but they were equally unsettling and exhausting. Today he’d yawned in public five times, and Warran Torval had questioned his health. If he couldn’t conquer this, his condition would show up in the assessment and wreck his and Skythia’s standing.

In desperation, he’d discussed it with his source. The man told him to get off the crack and offered sleep globes instead. It hadn’t worked. He’d ended up so muzzed he’d almost taken a sick day. Whereupon the man suggested a human drug called caffeine.

What had he expected from a fairy who spent that much time in humanspace?

***

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

MORE snippets: who dreamed a dream?

Emma Petersen
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
Sasha White
T.J. Michaels

I Won't Lose It

2011-06-19T08:06:00.000-07:00

Kid1 just "graduated" from a summer education program where they taught her to crochet. They also taught her about Australia, CSI and silly science, but the crochet class was what interested me. Obviously.

Anyway, the teacher provided all her students with a plastic crochet hook, probably a G size since that's most common, to continue their yarn art on their own. I just had the following conversation with Kid1 regarding her yarn art.

Kid1: I want to crochet, Mom.
Me: Good deal! Have at it. Let me know if you want to learn a new stitch.
Kid1: I can't because I don't have a hook. I need a hook.
Me: You have a plastic hook. You showed it to me yesterday.
Kid1: I can't find it, so I need one of yours.
Me: Hm. You lost your hook?
Kid1: I didn't lose it, I just can't find it. Can I get one of yours?
Me: No, you can't have one of mine. (I only have one G size hook, and it's my precious.)
Kid1: I don't want to have it, I just want to borrow it.
Me: But you lost your hook. I don't want you to lose mine. Then I won't have a hook.
Kid1: I told you, I won't lose it, I just want to borrow it.
Me: What is my guarantee that you won't lose it while you have borrowed it?
Kid1: Well, I guess if I do, you can have mine.
Me: But you lost yours.
Kid1: I didn't lose it, I just can't find it.
Me: Then...no. You can't borrow mine. Find your hook.
Kid1: *yelling* THAT'S NOT FAIR!!!! I LOST MY HOOK!

End result? I did not let her borrow my G hook, but now she has a one hour deadline to clean her room. Her plastic hook is either in there or between the couch cushions, guaranteed.

Sincerely,
JW
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

PS: Happy Father's Day to DH who does not know how to crochet but will probably be the one to find the missing hook. When he sits on the couch after doing the dishes.

Drawn to the Cover: Field Trip Review

2011-06-16T08:23:00.000-07:00

Man, am I glad I got cover artist Laura Morrigan to create the cover for Field Trip. It snagged me this awesome review of the story:

http://www.jimiripley.com/2011/06/short-story-review-field-trip.html

Sincerely,
JW
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

I Really Don't Like It! Clean the catbox...

2011-06-15T12:23:00.000-07:00

My humans got back from vacation recently, thank goodness, but apparently while vacationing at Grandma Slave's house, they did a lot of reminiscing. They all came back singing the following song:

Something about how things like this make the internet worthwhile, even with all the spam and trolls and freaky bigots out there? I dunno. I just want them to clean my catbox.

Sincerely,

Meankitty
www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

Meankitty Wants to Know: Marty Chester and the Scotties

2011-06-12T19:58:00.000-07:00

Long time, no interviews, huh? Well, in order to break my long, dry spell caused by Typing Slave's lack of popularity, sucky industry contact list, crappy productivity and other insults in that vein, I am resorting to interviewing a person who seems like a nice enough biped but who has been conned by a couple of DAWGS instead of cats. Marty Chester is in my human's local RWA chapter and apparently lets herself be run around by a couple of Scottish Terriers. Let's find out why in this special two part interview.

PART 1: THE HUMAN

1) Why did you decide to be a writer instead of a cat sanctuary owner?

I originally believed that I could make more money as a writer. In retrospect, however, I believe my logic was faulty. I wouldn’t be raking it in either way.

2) On the off-chance you have yet to incorporate cats into your fiction, when do you plan to rectify this egregious error and demonstration of poor writing skills?

I shall immediately rectify the situation in my next work of fiction. Even if it doesn’t fit the character, storyline, or plot. This could be what I need to make those millions. Count me in.

3) What are your favorite works of fiction involving cats or favorite fictional cats?

I’ve always been partial to Tigger in the Winnie the Pooh stories. Lots of boundless energy and wit.

4) Do you have any amazing, or at least humorous, real life cat stories you'd like to share?

When I married my husband three years ago, he neglected to mention he was allergic to cats (shocking, I know!), so when we went to visit my family (and their cat), I did get a good laugh at his expense.

5) Multiple choice: what is your preference and why?
A) Long hair
B) Short hair
C) No hair
-- Note: I am not, of course, referring to the hirsute qualities of your most recent hero or heroine.

Long hair. I just think they’re more regal looking. If a pet is going to be aloof, it should look like a Persian.

6) What one thing would you change about your pet?

As you know, dogs are very needy, so naturally, they would like me to spend every waking moment by their side. Even when they’re sleeping. Or pooping.

7) Do you believe pets and humans come to resemble each other over time?

Definitely. I’m not looking forward to getting those eyebrows...

8) Can you type with a cat/dog stretched out across your wrists? If not, why not? Otherwise, how's the carpal tunnel?

The broken wrist nearly did me in (don’t worry, not the pet’s doing). Scottish terriers look deceptively small but weigh quite a bit. I usually relegate them to the lap, or they lay on either side of the chair while I write.

9) When you're in the zone with your writing, what does your pet have to do to get your attention?

Pretty much draw blood. Or vomit—vomiting totally works.

***

PART 2: THE SCOTTIES

1) So, your human writes books. Are they (a) full of praise and hyped up lies about dogs; or (b) do they contain interesting stories?

Stewie: they contain thoughtfully written love stories with no pets involved, which I find questionable, at best. She says there’s already too much going on.

Angus: She writes stories?!

If A, interview is over. If B, you may continue.

2) If writers are supposed to be so smart, why does your writer have a dog instead of a cat when its common knowledge cats are better? Does that mean your writer isn't very smart?

Stewie: she’s very smart! [[I’m very smart thankyouverymuch!]]

Angus: She writes stories?!

3) Does being a writer mean your human is home all day and easy to access? What is her day like?

Stewie: I wish! She still has a “day job” and writes in the evenings and on weekends which means she isn’t taking me for a walk, which is actually her main function.

Angus: She writes stories?!

4) As a dog, you're probably not devious or fascinating, but on the off-chance you do have feline traits, what are your techniques for distracting your human during crucial writing moments?

Stewie: I have been described as “cat-like” which means I’m quiet, sneaky, and moody. My most effective tool is poking her in the leg repetitively with my cold, wet nose. Secondary is looking sad, which she finds irresistible. I have to be careful with that, or she’ll think I’m depressed.

Angus: She writes stories?!

5) What indignities and neglect have you suffered because of your human's writing career (besides the absence of a cat to properly rule the house)?

Stewie: Well, we’re doing this, aren’t we? Where’s Angus?

6) When your human gets together with other writers, do they spend half their time sniffing each other's butts like dogs do?

Stewie: Unfortunately, no. I think it might be helpful, but I haven’t been able to talk her into it.

Angus: (sniffings Stewie’s butt) What?

7) What is your human's next project (bonus points if you answer: getting a cat)?

Stewie: I wouldn’t mind the cat per se, but she’d have to lose the husband, and I’m kinda partial to him. So really, she’s shopping a love story set in ancient Rome and working on rewriting a paranormal. No pets anywhere.

Angus: Wait…she really writes stories?!

***

Sincerely,

Meankitty & Typing Slave
www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

Because I Love It

2011-06-12T09:47:00.000-07:00

I think I posted this once already, but I am going to post it again because I love it.

Our official vacation is over as of today, so we'll soon see if any of the in-house gnomes survived a week with Big D, Meankitty and the petsitter. DH is supposed to report in as soon as he gets home, since Kid2 and I stayed with Grandma a few more days.

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Summer Plans?

2011-06-08T07:35:00.001-07:00

I'm not going to talk about summer plans here, but I am talking about them -- and giving away One Thousand Kisses AND Survival of the Fairest -- over at the Night Owl Blog today: http://tinyurl.com/43yh6js

Come make me feel like I'm not all alone out there!

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Snippet Saturday: Work

2011-06-04T05:16:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday the theme is work. I've written about princesses, stage magicians, healers, Fairy Court interns, Fairy Court presidents, computer programmers, management consultants, ad copy writers, lawyers, teachers, graphic designers, shoe designers, detectives, pawn shop owners, secret agents, tour guides, and most recently an automechanic. Sometimes there are lots of descriptions of my characters' jobs and sometimes the job is in the background, since the story adventures swifts the characters away from their normal world.

In my latest release, which I've managed to get posted to Amazon and Smashwords so far -- B&N is holding out on me -- our heroine is a 3rd grade teacher in the year....Oh, I didn't specify but probably about 2443. The story is called "Field Trip" because that's the background event of the tale, the annual 3rd grade field trip to the Space Station Freedom Museum and Amusement Park.

So here's the first several paragraphs. I think it gives a good flavor of what teaching 3rd grade is like, now or anytime!

***

Chapter 1

Geiger, the little piss-ant, sat behind me during the shuttle simulation and relentlessly kicked the back of my seat. He’d picked that seat because it was beside Clarice, not because it was behind me, his teacher, but that didn’t stop him from kicking.

“This is how astronauts used to travel between planets,” droned the Zhie tour guide. He was obviously not used to holding the attention of twenty Human and Zhie third graders from the Integrated Public School System of Earth on their annual field trip. We were only ten minutes into our day-long visit to The Space Station Freedom Museum and Amusement Park, and already the kids were restless.

“The early Humans didn’t know about dimensional cross points.” The guide, who’d introduced himself as Sergeant Chamblin, flicked his eyes from left to right, as if he were reading cues. His posture was as rigid as a post. “They used huge spacecrafts powered by dangerous fossil and nuclear fuels to propel themselves beyond Earth’s orbit. The ships were nothing like the sleek hep...hep...oh, hoppers. Hoppers of contemporary times.”

So maybe he was reading cues. Great. A newb. I resisted the urge to check the back of the room for any writing on the wall...of the cue or the ominous variety.

“Trips between planets took months instead of seconds,” our newb explained, “and travelers were hindered by cramped living conditions, faulty gravity emitters, radiation, and, horror of, uh, horrors, space rations.”

The folks in charge of writing the speech presumably thought they’d get a response out of the kids with that worn-out joke. And they did. A wad of gum flew across the room and stuck to the guide’s podium, an incongruous green blip on the black and white logo of Galaxy Prime.

Behind me, Geiger snickered.

Chamblin’s lips tightened, and one of his eyebrows arched. If he’d ever done an IPSSE tour before—I was starting to have my doubts—he should hardly be surprised that kids horsed around.

“As I was saying,” Chamblin managed, before an another piece of gum joined the first. The Galaxy Prime logo now appeared to have eyeballs.

With a sigh, I reached for the belt on my unpadded seat. If the first Human astronauts had had to squeeze themselves into chairs like this, no wonder they didn’t progress any further than their own solar system. Nobody wanted to be this uncomfortable for that long.

The buckle on the worn strap jammed. I struggled to disengage it as Chamblin asked, “If you’re quite finished hurling indigestible food objects at me, we’ll continue.”

When nobody threw anything else, he said, “Is everyone buckled up?”

No one answered. I could feel the kids’ suppressed laughter like the steam before a teapot whistles and pulled harder on the buckle.

“Are your backpacks stowed? It’s time for take-off.”

Again, no one answered. Chamblin’s angular face radiated annoyance. Literally. The reddish coloration started at his irises and bled across his nose, cheeks and forehead until anyone looking at him could tell this particular Zhie was ticked off.

The stupid buckle on my stupid belt was obviously broken, trapping me in place. I turned my head so the kids could see my profile. Too bad I didn’t change color like a Zhie.

“Class,” I said in my stern voice. “Answer Mr. Chamblin.”

“Yes, Mr. Chamblin,” all twenty chirped as one, punctuated by Geiger kicking my seat again.

“Sergeant Chamblin,” he corrected.

“Right, right.” I paused in my struggle with the buckle to salute him. “Sergeant.”

What a downgrade. Last year we’d had a General. With a sense of humor.

***

Want to read more? And you can, for the low low price of 99 cents! It's an 11,000 word story with a romance subplot and lots of hijinks. And if you take the time to click over to my website, find my email and contact me, I'll send you a code to get it free on Smashwords. It's up to you.
Ebook Release: May 2011 on Amazon and Smashwords

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

More 9-5 or midnight shift goodness:

Emma Petersen
Leah Braemel
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
HelenKay Dimon
Sasha White
Shelli Stevens
T.J. Michaels

A "Debugging" Trick for Nighttime Use

2011-06-02T08:51:00.000-07:00

Ever wondered how to locate and dispose of all the insects that may have followed you back into the house late at night when you were trying to get the stupid dog to go outside and potty? Come on, this is such a common problem, I know you have!

Anyway, here's what you do. After the stupid dog has refused to go potty so you give up and close the door before any of the CATS get out, because they are NOT allowed out at night at Grandma Slave's house due to the coyote population, you merely turn out all the lights in the room. Then you turn on your laptop and open the screen. To do a little writing, of course, now that everyone else in the house is asleep. But it has a twofold purpose because...

Voila!

All the bugs in the house will buzz around your screen! And you!

Uh. Just don't try to smack them ONTO your screen or dispose of them by quickly slamming your screen shut, not even if they are mosquitoes.

Sincerely,
JW

www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

A Little Mystery to Figure Out

2011-06-01T07:13:00.000-07:00

Typing Slave here. Meankitty may have mentioned my kids and I are spending part of the summer with Grandma Slave and part with Food Slave, who sort of misses us and sort of probably enjoys the peace and quiet during his work week. I've told him if he has the 'best summer evar' because we are only there half the time, he can be the sole cleaner of the catbox from now on.

(Note: Food Slave is already the sole cleaner of the catbox. I'm still using that "I could be pregnant! You don't want me to get toxoplasmosis, do you? excuse even though (a) Meankitty and Big D never go outside to GET toxo; (b) I could not be pregnant; (c) I probably had toxo at some point when I was a kid, growing up cleaning the catbox of myriad indoor/outdoor cats. Don't tell him, okay? This will work until official menopause and then I gotta come up with something else. I'm thinking arthritis.)

But. Being at Grandma's house means outdoor adventures, different cats and new mysteries to solve. Here's our current mystery. Why does Grandma Slave keep a hooded rain poncho, 2 seat belt strap cushions, and a pair of Dr Scholl's Gellin' shoe inserts in her breadbox? Grandma claims ignorance, but I don't think she's telling the truth.

Sincerely,
JW

www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

PS: I've almost got my latest short story uploaded to all the usual online vendors. It's called Field Trip, and if you see this blog post and mention it to me in email, I will send you a coupon code to get the story free at Smashwords! It appears to be available at Amazon, too. I will do a more detailed post on my latest venture soon.

PPS Merri says hi to Meankitty, and ha ha ha she's sleeping with me!

Snippet Saturday: Hot Spots

2011-05-28T05:08:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday the theme is hot spots. I thought I'd share a scene from my first published novel, A Spell for Susannah, where our heroine and hero, through some conniving on the part of her mother, end up at the palace hot springs. That doesn't stop Susannah from figuring out a way around any plans Jon Tom and her mother might have cooked up between them...

***

She would be charming, but not too charming. She’d soften toward him, laugh more and provoke him less. She’d allow him to think the plan fruitful and report to her mother all was well. And whenever she chose to strike, she’d kick him in the rear, right out the door of the castle. Even if she and her sisters feigned a trip beneath, abraded their slippers on sandpaper, one more failure and he was finished.

It was so simple and so obvious. Why hadn’t she thought of it before?

“Mr. Tom,” she said, keeping a hint of acidity in her tone, “let’s drop the matter of who shall push and who shall pull. I’m weary of the brick wall that is your head, as I’m sure you’ve grown weary of mine.”

“Princess, your head is made of the most enchanting bricks—”

“Please! Drop the flowery talk. We both know it for what it is. No!” She tapped his arm playfully, but hard enough to sting. “Don’t tell me what you want, or what I want. Just tell me what you think will capture the attention of Sir Hanson. We’ve learned enough about his country, his life and his cows. What will interest him as a man?”

“What’s with this about-face?”

Drat, he’d noticed instantly. “I’ll level with you. As you claim to be a student of human nature, you know I can’t help but resent your presence. You regard me with suspicion, you interfere with my daily activities and you patronize me. If I’d barged into your life, wouldn’t those things annoy you?”

“I’ve never appreciated interference and skepticism of my abilities. I see your point.”

“My frustration with you shouldn’t prevent me from taking advantage of something that could help me. You’re right, Mr. Tom. You might not be able to help me impress Sir Hanson, but perhaps you can and I’ll secure the inheritance of our kingdom.”

“Perhaps I can,” he agreed.

“If we crumbled, there’d be no one to protect Foresta’s borders so you could enjoy that fortune you think you’re going to get.” Susannah flipped Jon Tom a cheeky smile and shook her hair out of her face. She’d seen Peter do that to great effect. “You might have to concede your designs upon my dower property, though, unless there’s some other way you think to obtain it.” She directed her gaze toward the hot springs and bathhouse at the edge of the forest and let her smile melt into something more secretive.

Pleased when his grin faltered, she allowed him to take her arm and help her down the smooth granite steps. Her head filled like a balloon with her tiny success. How amusing to suggest naughty things! No wonder Jon Tom always looked as if his life were a party.

Even in spring and summer, a mist rose from the bubbling hot springs, surrounded by ferns and evergreen trees. A stream trickled out of the far end of the irregularly shaped bowl and disappeared into the woods. The water cooled before it reached the lake, but the year-round warmth made for some interesting aquatic life. Transparent salamanders and bright minnows lived in the stream, and birds often came to the springs to bathe. White flowers with fringed petals thrived in the steamy, sulfuric heat, and amidst the ferns thick at the edge of the bowl were tiny purple toadstools, not to mention tiny purple toads.

The small bathhouse was built of the same gray stone as the steps and the contoured seats beneath the surface of the water.

“Tell me,” she mused, “if you were Sir Hanson and I brought you here, what would you be thinking?”

*****

Places to buy A Spell for Susannah, if you feel so inclined:

All Romance Ebooks
Amazon (paperback)
Amazon (ebook)
Barnes and Noble (paperback)
Barnes and Noble (ebook)
Diesel Ebooks
Fictionwise
Google
Kobo
Powells (ebook)
Powells (paperback)
Samhain Publishing (paperback)
Samhain Publishing (ebook)

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Bring on the heat!

Emma Petersen
Leah Braemel
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
Vivian Arend
Delilah Devlin
Eliza Gayle
T.J. Michaels

Snippet Saturday: Water

2011-05-21T05:47:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday the theme is water. At one point in 1000 Kisses, our heroine is having a bit of a panic situation and our hero has to cure her with some tough love involving the liquid element.
***

“Oh my stars. The Primary.” Ani closed her eyes. “This can’t be happening. I thought you were… Oh my stars.”

“Are you all right?” he repeated.

Fresh panic rose within her. “Please forgive me. I didn’t mean it.” Attacking the Primary was punishable by all sorts of things. “I can fix it. I’m authorized to heal. I’ve got my journeyman’s license.” She reached for his throat, and he stopped her.

“It can wait.”

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t trying to…”

Assassinate him. Assassinate the Primary. Who would do that?

Fear. Hatred. Ice.

Ani’s vision tunneled white. Again. Her chest heaved convulsively, as stark and desperate as a heart attack. Her tight bustier didn’t make breathing any easier.

“Shhhh.” Warm hands cupped her face, stroked her hair. Lips touched her forehead, her temple.

Her body pulsed with fright. “I nearly killed you.”

“Hush. You’re all right.” Was he kissing her? She tasted smoke and sweet but couldn’t feel her face. She’d gone numb.

She began to shake, worse than when she’d been so cold. When had she been so cold? Her extremities prickled. She heard a dry whoop through a long tube and realized it was her, struggling for air.

In a great whoosh, her body vaulted up, followed by pressure against every inch of skin. Darkness again, a draft of magic. Then suddenly she plummeted into water.

The cold splash shocked her out of her fit.

“Hey!” she spluttered before she sank. Without thought, she reached for water magic, dragging the cool liquid through her lungs. Sanity accompanied it. After a long, weightless moment, she bobbed to the surface, shaking hair out of her eyes.

She was in the natural springs below the Court complex, the mineral smell and chill water a giveaway. Dim lights illuminated the cavern. Liquid drips echoed through the huge chamber. No other fairies were present. In order to maintain its purity, the spring-fed lake was only accessible via transportation.

Embor poised knee-deep in the pool, ready to lunge after her. When she remained at the surface, treading water, he relaxed. Slightly.

**

Get your copy of 1000 Kisses:

All Romance Ebooks
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Books on Board
Diesel Ebooks
Fictionwise
Google Books
Mobipocket
Powells
Samhain Publishing
Sony

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

Emma Petersen
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
Vivian Arend
Delilah Devlin
Eliza Gayle
T.J. Michaels

Typing Slave Stinks

2011-05-20T17:42:00.000-07:00

She disappears for days with no warning and comes back smelling of OTHER CATS, yammering about her plans to spend half her summer at Grandma Slave's house with these OTHER CATS because of some stupid thing called "health." What about me, Meankitty?? Am I not more important than some human's health? Who will feed me? (Foodslave) Who will pet me? (Foodslave) Who will I torment at 3 am? (Foodslave) Whose computer keyboard will I walk across? (Foodslave) Who will open the blinds so I can attack Interlopers through the glass? (Foodslave) Who will tell Big D to quit chasing me around? (Foodslave) Who will cook smellicious human food so I can beg for it? (Probably nobody)

Somebody's breath is getting stolen tonight. Foodslave is helping.

Sincerely,

MK

www.meankitty.com * www.jodywallace.com

Snippet Saturday: Unusual Setting

2011-05-14T05:38:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday the theme is unusual settings. So how about a castle laundry? Is that unusual enough? This is from 1000 Kisses at the beginning of Chapter Three when our hero is attempting to tend to his housekeeping tasks himself.

Chapter Three

The laundry fairy accepted Embor’s bundle of soiled fabric with a scowl. “This reeks. What have you been doing, Primary?”

Embor raised an eyebrow but explained since it might help her cleanse the fabric. “I encountered the Serendipity triplets.”

“In a pigsty?” The tiny blonde cast a stasis spell on the bundle to prevent cross contamination.

“In the garden.” All Court members had PAs to lighten the workload, but since the Incident, it was frowned on for anyone to distance themselves from basic survival skills. For Embor that meant handling personal business like laundry himself. Sometimes.

“Well, don’t do it again.” She tossed his clothing down a chute.

“It’s not on my schedule.” His upcoming meeting with Jake would hopefully be free of children. And Talista. He stifled an abrupt yawn and frowned.

Happily, she missed his display of weakness. She scribbled his name in a paper book, a method of recordkeeping in vogue since the Incident as well. Much had changed in the past forty years.

“Do you know how hard it is to get whites white?” she complained. “Who decided white exercise clothes were a good idea anyway?”

The question seemed rhetorical so he didn’t respond.

“Your sib’s outfits are bad enough,” she continued. “If she’d dress like a decent fairy, I wouldn’t spend more time on her clothing than anyone else’s at Court. Don’t think I didn’t notice that yellow leather outfit. Leather! Might as well have been wearing a meat sack. What is wrong with her?”

Another rhetorical question, he hoped. He abhorred Skythia’s garish clothing as well but didn’t want to go on record as having stated it.

The woman regarded him with a craftiness that didn’t match her apple cheeks and corkscrew curls. “I might not be able to get these done in time for your next workout.”

Embor drew himself up to his full height. “I have several sets.”

“The others aren’t ready either. You’ve been exercising so much lately. One might think you were working off steam.”

That was no secret. Court became contentious as Primary assessments approached. At least he’d quit attempting to convince the Elders to fund a full-scale humanspace search mission and had redirected his energies. They were foolish to ignore the danger posed by the renegade agents and their insider knowledge about the AOC. Embor was many things, but he wasn’t a fool.

But he did need to enhance his stamina with moderate exercise. If he encountered Anisette in the gardens at the same time, well, he was fond of multitasking.

“A logical conclusion,” he conceded. “I am the Primary. There is stress involved.” He seemed to be informing people of this a lot lately.

“You’re not coming here to visit with me, that’s for certain. I’m surprised you haven’t paid for pick-up and delivery.”

“An unnecessary expense for something my assistant or I can handle.” Interacting with citizens like the laundress allowed him the opportunity to gauge his constituency. He spoke to at least one voter on a weekly basis.

“Skythia doesn’t worry about thrift. So what’ll it be, Elder?”

Always there were hidden fees. “I can offer—”

“Ten transportation globes, Realm-wide. And information.”

***

If you want to know how Embor responded to the laundry blackmail, you'll have to buy the book :)

Places to buy One Thousand Kisses (ebook):

All Romance Ebooks
Amazon
Barnes and Noble
Books on Board
Diesel Ebooks
Fictionwise
Google Books
Mobipocket
Powells
Samhain Publishing
Sony

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

More settings:

Emma Petersen
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
Vivian Arend
Delilah Devlin
Eliza Gayle
T.J. Michaels
Shelli Stevens

Beta Read Bonanza

2011-05-10T14:02:00.000-07:00

Some of my writer friends and I -- most of whom are in the MCRW Chapter out of Nashville, TN -- are offering up our joint services for a beta read bonanza as part of the Help Write Now auction to benefit victims of the April 2011 tornado outbreak across the southern US. We're guaranteeing a minimum of 5 beta reads of your first three chapters, 55 pages or so, and, if desired, your synopsis. Participants in the bonanza will include me, as well as other MCRW members, published authors and experienced judges from our long-running Melody of Love contest, now in its 13th year. The only thing we ask is that you not schedule your bonanza in September/October 2011, because that's when we'll all be judging the first round of our contest.

I can find beta readers for most types of manuscripts as long as they have romantic elements at the least. While we all belong to Romance Writers of America so our foundation in the romance genre is a given, many of us are also familiar with or even write young adult, women's fiction, sf/f, urban fantasy, erotica and mystery/thriller.

Feel free to email me with questions if you're deciding on whether or not to place a bid. There's more information about participants and such at my website. Not only is this a worthy cause, but we'll do our darndest to make it worth your while! Here's a link straight to the item page: http://helpwritenow.blogspot.com/2011/05/day-7-item-15-beta-read-bonanza.html

To find out how to bid or what other groovy stuff is up for grabs, just visit the central auction page:

Happy bidding, and good luck!

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

No More Commercials

2011-05-10T08:28:00.000-07:00

Kid2 just informed me, while looking skeptically at my body as I was getting dressed, that there's a special thing you can do to lose pounds.

She said, "Then you can wear a new bathing suit! And jeans and T-shirts. There's no telling how far down you can go."

Not sure how she absorbed this lovely sentiment, but it wasn't from me. I haven't gotten a new bathing suit in years.

Damned TV. Now she's screaming, "AFLAC!"

JW
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

There's One Thing You Should Know

2011-05-05T13:51:00.000-07:00

Like yesterday, today's post is also not brought to you by Meankitty. It's more from my kids. NEEDLESS TO SAY, I am currently working, or attempting to, and the kid (only 1 right now since the other in school) is supposed to be quietly jigsawing a puzzle.

Interruption number two went as follows:

Kid2: Mom, there's one thing you should know about Capri Sun.

Me: *look of annoyance -- look of death doesn't come until interruption 4* And what is that?

Kid2: They are a hundred percent.

Me: A hundred percent of what?

Kid2: A hundred percent of fruit juice.

Me: Okay. *tries to turn back to computer*

Kid2: There's one other thing you should know about Capri Sun.

Me: They're a hundred percent of fruit juice? (Kid2 greatly enjoys emphasizing her points through repetition; this is not a stupid guess on my part.)

Kid2: No! *laughs* They squirt a hundred percent to the ceiling if you squeeze them!

Me: ************

***

Yeah. Not releasing that short story today, either. Where's the mop?

Sincerely,

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

PS: Meankitty says the one thing you should know about Capri Sun is that it does NOT taste good when licked off of one's paws and fur.

PPS: Neither does Nutella. Don't ask.

I Don't Care About The Earth

2011-05-04T16:18:00.000-07:00

I bet you thought this was going to be a post by Meankitty, didn't you? Since it would be like her not to care about the earth. Well, it's not. I just transcribed the following conversation between myself and Kid1 for your reading pleasure:

Scene: Mom is trying to work. Has warned kids to leave her ALONE. Kids are unable to comply.

Fourth interruption in 20 minutes:

Kid1: Mom, what should I do with this old battery?

Me: *looks up with death glare from WIP* Throw it away.

Kid1: Really?

Me: Really.

Kid1: I shouldn't do something else with it?

Me: Is it one of the rechargeables?

Kid1: No.

Me: Then I don't care. Throw it away.

Kid1: You don't care about the earth?

Me: NO! I'm trying to work, kid. Go throw it away.

Kid1: We can't just throw batteries away. It hurts the earth.

Me: Go away.

Kid1: I'm going to do something else with this battery.

Me: *I* am going to do something else with that battery.

Kid1: *leaves hastily*

And this, dear readers, is one reason why the jaunty little sf short story "Field Trip" I wanted to Kindle a week or so ago is not Kindled yet.

Sincerely,

JW

www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

PS: Now Nannyslave hates me, too, because I don't care about the earth.

Hello?

2011-04-28T15:07:00.000-07:00

Hello? Southeastern United States? Big D here.

You still there? And what did you do to piss of Mother Nature, anyway, with all these tornadoes and stuff? Perhaps you should soothe her with an offering of tuna. That's what Meankitty and I like whenever the humans feel guilty about something. Or catnip, only this one time? When we had catnip? Meankitty got so crazed she scratched one of the small humans. The kid would NOT stop screeching. It was painful.

Sincerely,
Big D
www.meankitty.com

Snippet Saturday: Humor

2011-04-23T06:54:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday the theme is humor.

As I'm feeling particularly humorless after a "vacation" day home with Screamy and Screamier, here's a little something from 1000 Kisses from Embor, who never understands why people don't get his sense of humor:

****

“Actually, we aren’t done.” Embor straightened his shoulders. This group of individuals knew more about his troubles than anyone in the Realm. “I want to address the rumors of my instability. The assessments are nigh, and we have to be prepared.”

“Rumors won’t affect the assessments,” Gangee said. “If you aren’t having nightmares, it won’t tarnish the exams.”

“Even with a clean assessment, rumors can affect public opinion leading up to the election,” Embor said. With the Torvals’ popularity, a convincing black mark against Embor or Skythia could be disastrous.

“I’d know if you were unstable.” Skythia clapped his back again. “That first month after the kidnapping, your bogeymen kept me from getting any beauty sleep. You haven’t woken me with one in years.”

“Your beauty sleep, without a doubt, was my first concern,” he said mildly.

His proactivity with regards to hunting the Torval agents had been the exact therapy needed to erase the nightmares completely. Either he needed to capture the damned agents once and for all—or the changed content of the nightmares required another approach. He’d hidden it so far, but soon he wouldn’t be able to. His exhaustion would come out.

He was almost to the point where he needed help.

There wasn’t much he hated more than asking for help. The Torvals. Frivolous conversation. Gnomes. Large bodies of water. Lying. The Incident. The thought of Anisette making love to anyone but him. Turnips. Possibly human country music. Not much else.

“I haven’t been sleeping as much as I should,” he said, which was true. “You know my schedule, but you don’t know I’ve been experimenting with shield magic in my personal time.” His omission of other experiments didn’t count as a lie.

“Is that how you keep vanishing?” Skythia asked. “I thought your head was getting thick. Good trick. Is it something you can globe?” One of the many reasons crime was minimal in the Realm—it was next to impossible for perpetrators to hide once they’d been identified.

Unless the perpetrator was Embor Fiertag.

“I’ll have a preliminary report after the assessments. It’s enjoyable work but tiring.” When he presented the Torval agents to his cabinet in a nicely subdued bundle, their best weapon against the AOC’s chokehold, he doubted anyone would look too closely at how he’d achieved the feat. He’d tell them the censored version he, Jake and Talista had drummed up, but his staff’s forbearance did hinge on his success.

“Are you saying there’s truth to the rumors?” Gangee asked. “If your performance is affected, Elder, it’s time for a new hobby.”

“I haven’t pushed myself too far.” If he couldn’t rest well tonight, too far might be tomorrow. He couldn’t prop himself up with energy globes forever.

“You could take a vacation,” Skythia suggested.

Skythia usually retreated to Fiertaggen’s beach for long weekends, but she also had a hideaway in Key West. She used a simulacrum to cover her absence from the Realm like he did, although he’d dissuaded her from traveling to humanspace lately for reasons of his own. He found it ironic he used his simulacrum to conduct business while she used hers to pursue water sports and hideous clothing.

They all had their hobbies. His just happened to be bringing the Torvals to justice.

“I do have a request,” he said. “It occurred to me the real problem I’m having is a lack of hours in the day. As yet there’s no magical way to increase them. I’d appreciate it if research and development could get on that.”

At first, his staff goggled. Time magic was as impossible as a forced bond. Then Skythia snorted. “Now I’m worried. If you’re trying to crack jokes, you’re punch-drunk.”

Several cabinet members chuckled with relief, particularly R and D.

***
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Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com

More humor in more places:

Emma Petersen
Shelli Stevens
Lissa Matthews
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
HelenKay Dimon
Taige Crenshaw
Delilah Devlin
Lauren Dane
T.J. Michaels

Snippet Saturday: Action!

2011-04-16T07:59:00.000-07:00

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday the theme is action or active scenes with singing, dancing and the like. So how can I not share the infamous (in my mind) dancing scene from What She Deserves, where our heroine Winnie is tricked onto the dance floor with a less than desirable partner?

****

Tod ogled her chest, where the low neckline of her gown exposed the tops of her small breasts. “Damn, that’s a great dress. Are you wearing panties?”

Winnie decided that was the kind of question she could ignore. “Sally’s pink suit is pretty,” she said instead. “Wasn’t her homecoming dress pink? It must be her favorite color.”

“Enough about my wife. Let’s talk about you, Beanpole. Got a boyfriend?”

A dancing couple nudged past Tod, who frowned with concentration as he held himself upright. He seemed to be exceptionally inebriated. In fact, he was probably drunk enough not to think it was strange if she asked him about Chase.

“Where are your friends?” she asked.

“You’re the only friend I want, honey.” He leaned his head against hers, and she tilted as far away from him as his beefy grip would allow. “A real sexy friend.”

His calling her sexy didn’t have the same impact as when Peter had done it. She thought about ducking his arm and seeing if he’d fall, but hesitated. Maybe if his friends spotted Tod, they’d gather around him. He’d been their leader in high school. Wobbling under Tod Hammond’s drunken weight wasn’t the way she’d dreamed of greeting Chase, but nothing else seemed to be working.

“Speaking of sexy,” she said, “where’s Chase?”

“Who?”

“Chase McKnight. Your friend Chase.”

“Chasey-poo? Vegas, baby, Vegas.”

Winnie’s head filled with white noise. Vegas? “He didn’t come?”

“Oh, you mean now. He’s, uh, somewhere.” Tod swung his large head from side to side and peered through the crowd. His body swayed along with his head, and she put a hand up to keep him from stumbling.

“But he’s here,” she repeated. “At the reunion.”

The band broke into a thumping dance tune. “I don’t see him.” He slugged down his drink, spat out a piece of ice that bounced off her foot, and wiped his mouth on his shirtsleeve.

Winnie couldn’t stand Tod anymore. She shoved out of his grasp. The bar was a huge square, and the buffet was in a different room. Or on another planet. She never thought she’d need Peter for anything, but what was taking him so long?

Tod lumbered after her. The dead weight of his arm thumped across her shoulders again, trapping her. What was it, the yoke of punishment for her vanity tonight?

“I love this song,” he said. “Let’s dance.” He started grinding his pelvis against her hip.

“No thanks.” Not even Chase was worth getting pawed by this ape. She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he mistook her shimmy for a dance move.

“Hell, yeah!” he said. Then, to her dismay, he howled. He shoved his empty bourbon glass at a startled woman walking past and half carried, half dragged Winnie onto the floor.

“I said no!” Winnie twisted in his arms but only succeeded in smashing her back to his front. When her upper body bent instinctively away from his, his brawny arms kept her lower body pasted in place.

Uh-oh. She’d just given him all booty access.

***

Jody W.
www.jodywallace.com * www.meankitty.com
More Action:
Shelli Stevens
Lissa Matthews
Mari Carr
McKenna Jeffries
Selena Blake
Taige Crenshaw
Delilah Devlin
T.J. Michaels