It’s been a bit. I was hoping to surprise everyone with the release of a new Belladonna Romance for Valentines Day but unfortunately my laptop has died the hard death from which there can be no resurrection.
So no romances for you and a long stretch of pen and paper for me.
I do have a backup machine but it has difficulty with the simplest of functions. I can barely even post on facebook as I’m sure those of you who follow my page have noticed already. This means more delays. Longer delays. Soul sapping delay delays.
Please bear with me. Even in the midst of this I am writing.
Possibly very badly. Not as prolifically as I’d like but I am writing. In whole avenues and subjects, I am writing. Hold on and I shall begin releasing… eventually.
NaNoWriMo starts in 3 days and I’ll be participating… I may have gone certifiably insane… Send coffee and donuts… Don’t worry “Tasting Ash” is still scheduled for release on January 24th.
If you’re seeing this than the inevitable consequence of not publishing for a year has caught up with me and I’ve temporarily lost my internet connection. The good news is, with all the extra time offline I’ll surely zoom right through writing the new book. The bad news is, no blog posts, facebook, twitter or tumblr till things are sorted.
So immediately after the power outages I get sick. Pretty horribly sick too. Ugh. I’m still fighting this illness and haven’t been able to do much productive yet. Sorry.
Well I’m pleased to announce that Free First Fridays are returning, sort of. “The Uncertainty of Death,” will be available for free on Amazon all day Friday!
I was sick for a good long while and had to go run errands soon after I finally started to feel better. Only to find that the breaks were out in my car – while in the middle of rush hour traffic. I survived that but of course I started wondering if this was some kind of massive plot by unknown forces to do away with me. This is real life though, not fiction.
No sooner do I have that comforting thought than one dear to me gets shot, in the chest, as part of some kind of revenge hit.
Please, repeat after me:
This is not fiction. This is not fiction. This is not fiction.