Monday, December 22, 2014

On the Twelfth Day Of Christmas

My true love gave to me:

Twelve broken chew toys
Eleven piles of piddle
Ten kitty scratches (Sorry, Darren!)
Nine kibble dramas
Eight pissed off kitties (No, really. It's just two. Seems like more, though.)
Seven butts a'sniffed at
Six gnawed on rawhides
Four yowling cats (I swear, it's just two)
Three trash can raids
Two tired parents
And a new puppy we named Amy!

Look at those paws. She's only eighteen weeks old. Now imagine how much more growing she has to do to fit into them.

And, to be fair, the rescue named her Amy. We just decided to keep it.

Thumper has been darting in and out of sniffing distance, fur raised and tail fluffy. Darren, on the other hand, wants nothing to do with Ms. Waggy Tail and would prefer to be left alone, thank you very much.

Precious is following Amy, and Amy is following Precious. Precious even let Amy take one of her bones, something even we humans aren't really allowed to do. We have no idea what breed is mixed in our new mutt, other than some kind ouf hound dog.

Tuesday, December 16, 2014


True Destiny Book 5
Genre: Paranormal Romance, Menage (M/M/F)
Length: Novella

Three hearts are stronger than the sum of their scars.

Slade Saeter endured centuries of torture, longing for the day could claim Magnus Tate and Sylvia Grimm as mates. Now freedom is his, but nightmares still plague this son of Loki, and he fears his lovers will believe him too fragile to bond.

Always attracted to both sexes, Magnus never thought he could have the woman of his dreams, not when she was broken by his own father, her heart shattered by Thor's infidelities and their ultimate divorce. But Slade’s determination gives him a glimmer of hope.

Never one to let anything keep her down for long, Sylvia has long since healed from her ex-husband’s betrayals. But accepting her own stepson as a bonded mate? While it’s something she can wrap her body around, her heart is another story.

As three war-weary, damaged hearts slowly find balance among them, they form bonds of surprising strength. But with danger descending upon them with the fury of a Valkyrie, time is the one thing they may not have.

Warning: This title contains explicit sex, graphic language and only two people who know for sure if Slade really is hung like a horse. (They aren't talking.)

This wasn’t the way things were supposed to happen. Sylvia had prayed that they’d let her in, that they’d see how desperately she wanted to get away from Frederica and her desire to destroy Logan Saeter and any who chose to side with him. Instead, Kir and Logan had sent her right back into the mouth of the dragon.

Not even chocolate chocolate-chip ice cream could fix this level of depression.

“Well?” Sigyn, who’d taken the mortal name Sydney Saeter, opened the door of their shared apartment with a hopeful expression.

Sylvia shook her head. “They want us to spy on Frigg and find out what she’s up to or they won’t let us join them.”

Sydney’s shoulders slumped. “Porcupine balls. That won’t be easy.”

Sylvia took Sydney’s hand and led her into the apartment, closing the door behind her. “We can do this, Syd. If we find out what Frederica is up to, they’ll accept us.”

“Sure. Easy peasy.” Sydney groaned as she dropped ungracefully into her office chair. “Why don’t they ask for the moon? It would be easier.”

“I know, right?” Sylvia settled on the sofa, the bright blue cheering her as it always did. “Logan looked good, by the way.”

“Good.” Sydney smiled softly. “After everything he’s been through he deserves some happiness.”

“He’s found it.” Sylvia was aware of Sydney’s lingering feelings for Logan, but there was little she could do about it. Logan had fallen in love with Kir long before he’d been tied to that mountain. Worse, he’d never loved Sydney. He’d married her in order to cement his position in the Aesir, and because it was expected of him.

Sydney had adored him from day one and had believed in him when no one else did. In return he’d left her behind, running with Kir and hiding from all of them for centuries.

It was the best thing he ever did for Sydney Saeter, and he probably knew that. He was far more intuitive than Frigg gave him credit for.

Sydney had been forced to stand up for herself, to face the accusations that she was the one who’d freed him. But Odin had used his powers on her, the truth spilling forth from her like the poison of the snake that had tortured Loki. She’d gone to empty the bowl of venom, as she did whenever it filled. As she’d poured it away, she’d realized Loki wasn’t crying out as he normally did. Without the bowl, the venom would land on his skin, burning him. He always cried out when she was forced to leave him in order to empty the bowl.

When she returned, he was free of his shackles, gone without a trace. And she had no idea who had done it.

Odin’s use of the apples of Idunn had saved Sydney from being killed by Vali, the Avenger. She was innocent, by Odin’s decree, but now she was terrified of Val Grimm. Whenever the large man entered the room Sydney would go still and quiet, afraid he would turn on her at any moment. He’d terrified her then, and still did. That he’d joined willingly with Kir and Logan only meant he was up to something, and Sydney was determined to find out what. She would not allow her ex-husband’s happiness to be ruined by a spy of Odin’s.

Too bad neither she nor Sydney had been aware of Odin’s murderous intentions until it was far too late to do anything about it. Perhaps they could have helped more, done more. Things might have turned out far differently. Maybe Sydney wouldn’t have this overwhelming fear of Val, because Sylvia had seen the way Sydney eyed Vali when she thought no one was looking.

Her friend had the hots for the Avenger, but was terrified of him at the same time. She denied it by believing Vali to be an enemy, one she had to harden her heart against.

It was a conundrum only time and proximity would cure. Sylvia planned on getting Sydney both.

Odin’s use of the apples had kept them all happy little lambs, doing his bidding without a qualm. The only one who hadn’t been affected was Logan, who hadn’t deserved half the ire he’d received over the years. Without the influence of the apples, the Aesir and Vanir were finally able to see Odin and his machinations for what they were: a desperate attempt to stave off Ragnarrok.

It was too late. Ragnarrok was coming and nothing could stop it. Already the prophecies were coming true in ways none of them could have predicted. Thor was dead by the serpent’s hand, but instead of J├Ârmungandr—the world serpent—being the murderer, it had been Odin—the betrayer—the true serpent in their midst. Loki had been killed by the Guardian of the Bifrost Bridge, Heimdall, but instead of it being the real Loki it had been Rina Sutherland, Odin’s mistress, wearing Loki’s face. She’d tried to trick the Guardian, but he hadn’t been fooled. He’d seen right through the facade to the heart of the jotun beneath, and had killed her. She’d returned to her original form upon death, but she’d died wearing Loki’s face.

It had all of them, Frederica included, looking at the prophecy with new eyes. What else had they gotten wrong all those years ago? If Fenris├║lfr wasn’t meant to kill Odin, then who was the wolf destined to take his life? Or could Fenris only kill him at a specific place and time, when Odin would be vulnerable? Was there something Fenris would have to obtain in order to gain the power to kill him? And if so, would Vali prove to be a traitor after all and wind up killing Fenris? Prophecy said he would kill the wolf that destroyed Odin, but if that were true he’d be killing Logan’s son.

Sylvia wasn’t certain he could do that, unless…

No. It wouldn’t do to start doubting now. She’d set her course and she would sail these seas no matter what.

“What do they want to know? Please tell me they didn’t send us in blind.”

Sylvia played with the white hair bracelet Slade had given her. “I’m not sure.” Sydney whined, but Sylvia ignored it. “They said they wanted to know what she’s up to, that she’s been far too quiet lately.”

“Huh. They’re right about that.” Sydney moved from the office chair and flopped down on the sofa. She pulled her feet up and wrapped her arms around her knees, a pose Sylvia had grown used to over the years. Sydney was scared, but her mind was racing. “She’s been closeting herself with Henry and Luther a lot.”

Sylvia grimaced. “I thought she was sleeping with them.”

Sydney shot her a grin. “Well, they’re doing that too, but I think they’re plotting as well.”

“Then we need to find out what in order to get what we want.”

“Freedom.” Sydney drawled the word with longing.

“Freedom.” Sylvia nodded. “So. How do we do this?”

“Bug their bedroom.”

Sylvia blinked. Sydney could be strangely abrupt, but her ideas usually had merit. Without Logan to protect her Sydney had been forced to come out of her shell. She was still a bit odd, but her intelligence could no longer be questioned. “Not a bad idea. We can record what we find out and hand it over to Kir and Logan.”

Sydney nodded. “How, though? They lock that room up tight.”

Sylvia plucked a golden hair from her head. “Leave that to me.”

“Then I’ll get the equipment we’ll need.” Sydney uncurled from the sofa. “Give me two days and I’ll have everything.”

“Excellent.” Sylvia stretched. Somehow working with Sydney always seemed to make things better. “Pizza tonight?”

“Ugh. So tired of pizza.” Sydney sat at their computer and began typing. “Chinese?”


The women exchanged a glance. Sydney looked back at her screen with a grin. “Extra hot, and you’re on.” Sylvia picked up the phone as her best friend began cackling like a loon. Whatever was on the screen had made her a happy woman. “Come to mama, baby. You’re my little puppy now.”

Sylvia shook her head. Syd was certifiable, but at least she was fun. Too bad she didn’t let this side of her out when around other people. Instead she tended to revert to the meek and mild ex-wife of Loki.

Sometimes she wondered if Logan would have left if he’d seen this side of Sydney. Then again, if he hadn’t left she doubted anyone would have seen it.
Well. At least it would be fun to watch the two of them interacting. Perhaps Sydney would be herself around all of them when this was done. Sylvia would give a lot to see Logan deal with this side of his ex.

But in the meantime, she had a lock pick to make.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

That's SO Wrong.

Dragon Age Inquisition came out yesterday, and as some of you know, my little geeky heart has been waiting for this game FOREVER. So I hopped onto the Origin bandwagon the moment I had my wordcount done, and created my first Inquisitor.

This? Is not her. I'll explain why I didn't post a picture of my Inquistor in a moment.

So I make my happy elven mage, skip her happy elven ass down Inquisition lane, and I'm playing...and I'm playing... and I'm wondering if I'm going to ride the Iron Bull or cast my big eyes toward seducing the ex-Templar, Cullen, when I realize something.

She looks exactly like my grown niece. Down to the cute-ass freckles.

So that means I've been picturing...and the humpty-hump images... and teh BULL...and she was my flower girl at my wedding. 

There go four hours of my life I will never get back.

I'll admit, I thought about keeping the character around. I mean, that's four hours of game play I'll have to do over again, not to mention the time I spent in the character creator.

But then I remembered that my brother was a sheriff's officer, owns a gun, and I have the attention span of a gnat. I will wind up posting pictures of my elven Inquisitor at some point, probably with the tag, "BOOYEAH! BAGGED THE BULL!"

Bye-bye, elven Inquisitor. I will miss you.

Friday, October 31, 2014

Trick or Treat!

So, it's that time of year again, when ghoulish, half-dead creatures appear in my kitchen and ask for food.

No, wait. That's my kids.

So, between Mommy being sick and busybusybusy, we didn't get any Halloween decorations up. However, R has decided to dress up to hand out the candy this year so Mom doesn't have to race for the door every five seconds. He saw me hurting two years ago and decided that, at fourteen, he was too old to do the candy walk with Dad and M. He did the duty last year, too.

He's a good kid. Here is last year's costume. He wanted to be faceless.

And the kids loved it. He'd sit in the chair, face down, and when a kid approached he'd lift his head and dip his hand in the candy bowl, handing them their candy. He scared the crap out of some of them.

Which is probably why he was so eager to do it again this year. He decided that for this Halloween he is going to wear a light-up "gas mask", a cave man wig and a straight jacket. He tried the outfit on, hid in the bathroom door and called for M.

I've never heard that kind of shriek come out of M before. It was pretty awesome.

M, of course, decided he too needed to be different (i.e., difficult). He's decided to be Scout from Team Fortress 2.

And it had to be "Red Scout, not Blue Scout, Mom." Sigh. At least most of the clothes needed for his costume can be worn as every-day clothes, so it worked out. And he was willilng to go with Scout's baseball bat instead of the scatter gun, which works out even better for Mom, as I'm about as crafty as your average rutabaga.

I can't exactly see R wearing his straight jacket to school. Although the teachers might appreciate it.

So, I have last round edits to finish on Not Broken, first round edits to finish on Figure of Speech, the montly newsletter to get out tomorrow, and the last little bit of the rough draft of Never More to do.

Thank god R decided to dole out candy, because I'm pretty sure I'm glued to my computer for the next twenty-four hours.

All right. I'm going to ditch the computer to check out all the cute little ghouls and goblins coming to my door. And maybe eat a fun size Snickers for every Elsa I see.

(Does this one count? I think it does!)

P.S.: For those starting National Novel Writing Month (aka NaNoWriMo) tomorrow, I wish you the best of luck. Happy writing!

Favorite Quotes

"I had the right to remain silent, but I didn't have the ability." Ron White

"So let me get this straight. You want me to kill the little guys, kill the big guys, crowd control those I can't, buff the team, debuff the boss, keep myself alive, AND keep you alive, all while waving a stick and dressed in a towel?" - Anonymous Role Playing Gamer

"I think that statue over there is a statement on modern life. The statement is, "Well, shit." - Varric, Dragon Age II

"Why is it all claws and guns? Can't we piss off a fuzzy planet? Still dangerous, but hey. Bunnies." - Joker, Mass Effect

"Last night, I lay in bed looking up at the stars in the sky and thought to myself, "Where the heck is the ceiling?" - Dilbert

"Aim at the high mark and you will hit it. No, not the first time, not the second time and maybe not the third. But keep on aiming and keep on shooting for only practice will make you perfect. Finally you'll hit the bull's-eye of success." - Annie Oakley

"It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly." - Flemeth, aka The Witch of the Wilds, Dragon Age 2

"The very existence of flamethrowers proves that sometime, somewhere, someone said to themselves, 'You know, I want to set those people over there on fire, but I’m just not close enough to get the job done.'” - George Carlin

"I hear there's a wild bridge tournament down the street. And you know Bridge. It's a lot like sex. If you don't have a great partner, you'd better have a good hand." Barry Weiss, Storage Wars

"You know, I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then I thought, wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair, and all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them? So, now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the universe." - Marcus Cole, Babylon 5, "A Late Delivery From Avalon"

"I aim to misbehave." - Capt. Malcolm Reynolds

"Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid." - Albert Einstein

“If you think you can or think you cannot, you are correct.” - Henry Ford