It's Valentine's Day

Overheard an acquaintance lamenting Valentine's Day. No, she's not single, no her SO hadn't forgotten ... she was complaining that her SO hadn't gotten her roses and had 'only' planned a dinner and movie out and had 'only' gotten her a 'trinket' of a necklace. (He gave it to her early so she could wear it on their dinner.)

I wanted to throttle her.

No, not because I've never received stuff like that, not because I'm single and jealous. No, I'm mad because she doesn't appreciate what she has. That she doesn't appreciate what her SO went out of his way to do for her on his limited budget (they both are in college). That trinket of a necklace cost at least $100. Dinner and movie (with alcohol, I'm assuming), another $100. So he's spending $200 and she doesn't appreciate it?

You know something bitch? I would TREASURE a hand-made card and an evening watching a DVD at home with someone. It's the memory you make that counts. It's not the things you collect that's going to matter in your old age. It's the memories that will be priceless. On your deathbed, will you be clutching that necklace or the hand of your loved one? I certainly hope it's the latter.

I HATE that holidays (even made-up ones like Valentine's Day) have become so commercialized that women (and some men) EXPECT something grand and romantic. You know what you'll probably remember better? The single rose he gives you just because it's Monday or that silly seashell bracelet he got at the airport on one of his business trips just because he missed you. Or that Sunday he brought you breakfast in bed, or that Wednesday he offered to cook from his limited cooking skills because you had a bad day.

You'll remember the time he held your hand when you were sick; you'll remember the time you laughed so hard when he tried to surprise you by starting some laundry and a red sock turned his boxers pink. 

In 30 years, will you remember what you ate and what movie you watched on Valentine's Day 2015? Unless you're a good journal keeper, probably not. Eh, you might remember the necklace if it doesn't get lost in ensuing moves or the during the mis-mash of life that will happen over the decades. But I doubt it. 

So, for those of you with SOs out there, if they bring you flowers, of course, be gracious, be excited, be romantic, but don't be disappointed if the flowers, or chocolate, or teddy bears bearing jewelry don't appear. Enjoy that your SO is alive and well, that he/she is there with you, today, Valentine's Day 2015. Create memories that you can relive and enjoy. Don't concentrate on the 'things' in life. They won't matter at the end.

There is nothing more in the world that I want than to create a memory with someone. To go out and play in the snow with someone, to eat leftovers and watch a DVD, to laugh and enjoy the evening with someone. I don't NEED things - I NEED memories.

But, for those that still want flowers, here is the most expensive Valentine's Day bouquet from Teleflora:

$410 WITHOUT the delivery charge. Don't say I never gave you anything.

Happy Winter Solstice and Some Random Thoughs ...

Happy Winter Solstice!

May you be surrounded by loved ones on this longest night of the year.

Now, for some random thoughts:

Just saw the third Hobbit movie (3? Why? It's a 247-page novel!) at the theatre. I didn't see the first two in the theatre, but wanted to hang with friends, so I went. It wasn't worth it to see it in 3-D in my opinion, but with my weird eyesight, 3-D always isn't worth it.

So, it was fun and I did tear up at the end. My fave dwarf (Kili) dies, but he dies in the book, so wasn't truly surprised. Wish though he could have at least had a kiss with Tauriel.

Now my question is, with hobbits wanting to eat six to seven times a day, is this the reason Bilbo was gone for two and a half years? They had to stop every two hours to eat? (I'm joking, but it does beg the question - is the group that awesome of hunters and gatherers that they survived such trials and tribulations for two and a half years? Perhaps yes for hunting, but you gotta stave off scurvy and the like, right?)

But for a serious question - will Peter Jackson go back to the original three movies and replace Ian Holms with Martin Freeman in the 'Bilbo steals the ring' flashback? I hope he doesn't go all George Lucas on us.

And while we're on Middle Earth - am I the only one who wishes Jackson could get the rights to 'The Silmarillion'? I would love to see the elves again. 

Tangent ...

Was watching 'Weird Science' last night. If we could time travel, I'd go back to let RDJ (well, at the time, he was just RD) that he'd be a serious actor AND get to play Iron Man. See if that blows his mind. (BTW - you could definitely see the beginning of the drug use in this film.)

And on that note ...

Do you think some serious actors wished their earliest works would just disappear? You know they do. 

Last random thought for the day ...

I want a Rocket Raccoon plush toy for Christmas.

Well, I REALLY love a Dancing Baby Groot, but he's not out yet. 

Until later. 

Guest Author - Layla M. Weir

Hi Sherrie! Thanks so much for having me! I'm blog touring for my new novel Held For Ransom, set during Christmastime in a small town in Illinois.

Today I am also having a release party on Dreamspinner Press's blog (http://dreamspinnerpress.com/blog/), so please come by and check that out too if you get a chance!

For those of us in the U.S., today is the point when the ramp-up to Christmas begins in earnest -- Thanksgiving is over, Black Friday is here, and most of us are looking forward to the holiday season with some combination of delight and dread. I admit that for me, despite being your basic secular humanist atheist and therefore not involved in the religious aspects of the holiday, the delight tends to overwhelm the dread. Okay, yeah, there are always those terribly awkward family members to shop for, and the usual handful of family Christmases we don't like to talk about when things went dreadfully wrong. But for the most part, the Christmas season is one of my favorite times of year. I still have a childish delight in the brightly colored lights, the festive store displays, the Christmas music on the radio and the special holiday episodes of all my favorite TV shows. (Okay, maybe I could do without the same Macy's ad on TV every other commercial break ...)

It's not that I don't understand why some people hate the holiday season and brace themselves for it with despair. It's over-commercialized, the stores bring out the decorations in freakin' August (or at least it seems that way), and the obligation of having to shop for every relative under the sun strips out a lot of the fun of gift-giving ... and I feel for the plight of the non-celebrants at this time of year, who must be trapped in what seems like an inescapable, never-ending holly-filled purgatory.

But, yeah, I'm going to be that person who trots out all my holiday icons and wanders down the craft aisles at Michael's to smell the fake cinnamon potpourri. I know the holiday isn't perfect, but I find myself wallowing even in its less perfect aspects. Yeah, I like the stupid mall Santas and the dopy fake wreaths on the downtown lampposts, and even if I flip the radio channel at the first strains of "Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer", it's also with a certain wry indulgence (in addition to the cursing).

And so, in some ways, this is what Held For Ransom is all about, I guess. It's my personal paean to the Christmas holiday season -- the good, the bad, and the dreadfully awkward.

Here's an excerpt in which DJ Lanning, one half of the novel's main pairing, contemplates his own Christmas-related problems.

Excerpt:

            Typically, three days before the annual Christmas carnival, the ball field would be echoing with the ring of hammers and the cheerful cries of volunteers as they put up the booths. This year no one had given any thought about the carnival—least of all DJ Lanning, until he started getting panicked calls from his mother’s friends a week prior. For the past twenty years, his mother had been organizing the whole thing by herself, and no one knew how anything was done. Vivian Lanning had obtained the necessary permits, called all the vendors, put together the fundraisers, and bought exactly enough of everything from bratwurst to balloons.

            Now with his father on a ’round-the-world, post-midlife crisis, and his sister in Chicago, he was the only member of the Lanning family readily available—and therefore, the one who would save them all.

            I can’t even save myself; how can I save the whole town?

            He rose stiffly, brushed bits of dead grass off his coat, and picked up the manila envelope full of flyers. One of them was clipped to the outside. DJ had hacked them together the night before in Microsoft Word and printed them out on the black-and-white laser printer at home. He should probably call Inga back and let her know that he’d already media blitzed every lamppost in the whole two-block downtown, but he couldn’t deal with her agitated energy on top of his gloomy mood. She probably wanted to ask him some question he didn’t know the answer to—where Vivian’s records were for the fundraising bake sales, who to call at the Tri-City Gazette about running an ad, where the plans for putting together the dismantled booths had gotten off to.

            How his mother had managed to keep this bunch organized was beyond him. Vivian had never seemed like a together kind of person. She was, in fact, the classic absentminded professor, with her flyaway hair and her habit of forgetting everything from her reading glasses to the water boiling away on the stove. Her desk, at home and at her office on campus, had been a disastrous drift of papers. DJ was still finding Post-it notes stuck on random surfaces—his mother’s desperate attempt at stemming her life’s slide into entropy—which he didn’t have the heart to remove. She’d always been on the phone to someone, usually while doing a dozen other things badly.

            And yet somehow she’d made her mad juggling act work. She’d kept all the balls in the air—wife, mother, English professor, member of every committee in Heatherfield County—and only dropped a few. Even during the past year, when she was weak and frail from cancer, she still ran the carnival committee and made it a success.

            But that was half the problem this year. In the last months of her life, his mother had been dropping more balls than she kept up. Drugs, pain, and a never-ending regimen of chemotherapy and doctor’s visits made her forgetful. At times during the lead-up to Christmas last year, she’d been sleeping sixteen hours a day. No one could have managed everything she tried to do. If she’d handed it off to someone when there was still time to explain how everything was done—

            But she couldn’t do that without admitting she was in the final months of her life. And Vivian hadn’t been able to. Neither could her husband and children, and neither could her friends, who included nearly everyone in Osmar. So we all went on pretending Mom was going to get better, and then she crashed. And now she’s gone, and we’re all left picking up the pieces.

            DJ taped a flyer to the light pole before the river bridge, just below the Christmas wreath that the town council had hung, and then crossed to the middle of the bridge. From there he had a panoramic view of the town—what there was of it.

---

Held For Ransom 
by Layla M. Wier

Genre: M/M Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Length: Novel/200 pages
Release Date: Nov. 14, 2014

Blurb: 
Two weeks before Christmas, the small town of Osmar is gearing up for its annual winter carnival, but the death of the event’s long-time organizer might mean the end of the festivities. Everyone is turning to her son DJ to save the carnival, but DJ can barely save himself. He's spinning his wheels in Osmar—working part time at the gas station, living in his parents' house, and trying to figure out what to do with his life. DJ is caught in a large, loving web of well-meaning family and friends, but they can't fix his life for him. Into this mess comes Ransom, a handsome mystery man on a motorcycle. Ransom is traveling around the country, making up for his past sins by doing “good deeds.” He and DJ have a one-night stand that neither can forget, but that's just the start, because Ransom has a plan to save the carnival, and DJ has a plan to save Ransom… and possibly himself.

Buy Links:
Dreamspinner Press: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?products_id=5679



About Layla: 
Layla M. Wier is a writer and artist who grew up in rural Alaska and now lives on the highway north of Fairbanks, where winters dip to 50 below zero and summers yield 24 hours of daylight. She and her husband, between the two of them, possess a useful array of survival skills for the zombie apocalypse, including gardening, blacksmithing, collecting wild plant foods, and spinning wool into yarn (which led to her first Dreamspinner Press novella, "Homespun"). When not writing, she likes reading, hiking, and spending way too much time on the Internet.

Where to find Layla:
Blog: http://laylawier.wordpress.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/Layla_in_Alaska
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/laylamwier
Tumblr: http://laylainalaska.tumblr.com

Stops on the Held for Ransom blog tour (Nov. 12-Dec. 1)

Wednesday, Nov. 12: Anne Barwell - http://annebarwell.wordpress.com/

Friday, Nov. 14: RELEASE DAY! Charley Descoteaux - http://cdescoteauxwrites.com/blog/

Monday, Nov. 17: Shae Connor - http://shaeconnorwrites.com/ 

... and ...

**ALL-DAY RELEASE PARTY** on Facebook and Wordpress

http://laylawier.wordpress.com - https://www.facebook.com/laylamwier

Wednesday, Nov. 19: Grace Duncan - http://www.grace-duncan.com

Friday, Nov. 21: Jana DeNardo - http://jana-denardo.livejournal.com

Monday, Nov. 24: Anna Butler - http://annabutlerfiction.com/blog/

Wednesday, Nov. 26: Aidee Ladnier - http://www.aideeladnier.com/

Friday, Nov. 28: Sherrie Henry - http://sherriehenry.blogspot.com/

Monday, Dec. 1: Because Two Men Are Better Than One - http://becausetwomenarebetterthanone.com/

Don't Give In! Resist the Urge!

Originally published on my Facebook profile:

Please, please don't go shopping on Thanksgiving. If we stopped going out to shop, the stores wouldn't be open and the employees can be at home with their familes (or at least enjoying a day off). We need to wean ourselves from our addiction to cheap Chinese goods and the notion that if we don't get it RIGHT AWAY, we won't get a good deal. Patience is your friend. You can find excellent deals closer to Christmas; sometimes even better than the ones you find on Thanksgiving/Black Friday.

And remember, the retailers are putting out ads for TVs and electronics as SUPER DUPER LOW PRICES, but please, they have MAYBE 10 in stock. But of course, you can get this comparable TV at a discount too (never, ever close to the 'discount' advertized for those 10 TVs that were taken in the first minute). DON'T FALL FOR IT! STAY HOME, PIG OUT, WATCH TV, NAP ON THE COUCH.

After some huge losses some friends of mine have suffered the past few weeks, I wanted to remind people of something:

Thanksgiving is a time to be with family. It's a time to pig out, watch football (or whatever is your traditional movie) and be together, even if all you do is watch the damn DVD.

Think about this: none of us knows how long we have on this earth. This may and probably will be the last Thanksgiving for some of us or will be the last Thanksgiving for a loved one. Do you really want your last Thanksgiving to be at the mall? Do you really want the last memory of your loved one, that you only see once, maybe twice a year, to be of them waving at the door as you back the car out of the driveway and head out to shop?

How about the employee at the store? What if they have loved ones at home that they know they won't see again after this day? Maybe they know this is their last Thanksgiving due to illness and yet, to keep that precious health insurance, they are forced to work rather than be at home with family one ... last ... time. (Let that sink in - some illnesses don't present themselves to the outward appearance. That sales clerk at the checkout stand may only have a few weeks to live and yet here you are, shopping, telling Corporate America they'd better have stores open or else.)

Are you really that selfish, greedy, apathetic? If you are, I feel very sorry for you.
I heard that Maine has blue laws that forbid stores from being open on certain holidays, Thanksgiving included. I wish the remaining 49 would do that. This is one blue law I could get behind. NO ONE should have to sacrifice time with family because they need a job.

If you still feel the need to go shopping on Thanksgiving, do me a favor and unfriend me. I don't want you around and I really don't want to know you.

Guest Author - Grace Duncan

In a world that's gone to hell, will you let old fears keep you from the chance at more than just survival?

Blurb:

When Duncan stumbles into a pharmacy in search of something to fix his broken leg, he’s surprised to find someone else there. Like the rest of the post-pandemic world, it appeared empty. Instead, he discovers Mark, a former nurse who walked away from his profession after losing too many patients to the virus. Despite swearing he’d never practice medicine again, Mark patches Duncan up over Duncan's protests. He even finds an abandoned house in the tiny town, and they settle in until Duncan heals enough to look out for himself. Much to the chagrin of both, they find themselves caring for each other.

Duncan welcomes it, thrilled at finding someone he can trust. However, he’s well aware of the shadows in Mark’s eyes and understands Mark’s reticence as he learns the story. But as he’s starting to do things for himself again, Duncan realizes he doesn’t want Mark to leave. He’s not sure if can get Mark to let go of his fears so they can stay together and love. But Duncan’s damned sure going to try.

Buy link: Dreamspinner Press
Amazon.com
AllRomanceEBooks.com

Excerpt:

He should have known better. Under normal circumstances, it was a stupid move, but right here, right now, “stupid” didn’t begin to cover it.

Duncan glared at his leg for another moment, then leaned his head back against the wall. He needed to keep moving. It hurt like hell, but he had to keep going. It wasn’t going to get better on its own. The gash needed to be cleaned and bandaged, and even if the break wasn’t bad, it should at least be braced. And it wasn’t like he could call an ambulance. Or even go into an emergency room.

Well, he supposed he could go into an emergency room, if he was in the city. But like a lot of other people, he avoided the cities whenever possible. And when it wasn’t, he stayed as far on the edge as he could. But even there, it was a dangerous risk. As corrupt as the cities were now, the price of anything was higher than most could pay. He’d heard rumors that, in some of the worst cities, people simply got shot if they couldn’t pay what the thugs in power wanted. It was all rumor, but rumor he wasn’t about to ignore.

So he did his damnedest to stay away.

He’d been stupid to jump off the ledge. Even at only a couple of feet higher than he was tall, the risk hadn’t been worth it. He’d have thought, after nearly three years, he’d learned how to be more careful and not take those kinds of risks. It wasn’t the first time he’d fallen and hurt himself—though, thankfully, the last one hadn’t involved a broken bone. Maybe it should have; he might have learned his lesson then.

“Really fucking stupid, Dun.”

Duncan steeled himself and pulled to his feet, grimacing when the sharp pain shot up his ankle and through his leg. “Fuck,” he muttered, breathing hard through his nose. When he finally focused past the pain, he looked up and noted the position of the sun, the only real indication he had for the time, and figured he had another good hour or two of light. If he was right about where he was, he wouldn’t need all of it. He tucked the stick he’d found under his arm, grimaced when it dug into the soft flesh, but then leaned on it and hobbled along again.

Grace’s Bio:

Grace Duncan grew up with a wild imagination. She told stories from an early age - many of which got her into trouble. Eventually, she learned to channel that imagination into less troublesome areas, including fanfiction, which is what has led her to writing male/male erotica.

A gypsy in her own right, Grace has lived all over the United States. She has currently set up camp in East Texas with her husband and children - both the human and furry kind.

As one of those rare creatures who loves research, Grace can get lost for hours on the internet, reading up on any number of strange and different topics. She can also be found writing fanfiction, reading fantasy, crime, suspense, romance and other erotica or even dabbling in art.

Check her social media:
Grace's website
Facebook
Twitter: @GraceRDuncan

Giveaway!

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Thanks for stopping by!

GRL - Post-Con Thoughts

It's human nature to dwell upon the negative. What's the saying? "For one negative review, there are ten positive reviews that don't get written." Or "every negative review can influence ten people, who will repeat the negative, while the positive is forgotten.' Or some such sayings like that.

Of course, each and every convention can be improved every year they hold one. I'm sure this convention ran much more smoothly than say their first one. So, all that said, let me start with the positive.

The music was da BOMB! Love to dance, even though I'm not good at it and look pretty much like a beached whale writhing on the dance floor, but hell, it's fun. The costume party was the most absolute perfect way to end the convention. Had a great time at the Casino Royale as well - was fun learning how to play roulette.

The panels were fun, but much improvement to be made (see below). Great moderators and the authors were awesome to meet. The featured author signing was fun as well (didn't get to experience the supporting author one as I WAS a supporting author - but great to be asked for my autograph. Heck, maybe some day those will be worth something! LOL). I got to meet people I only knew on-line and it was great to put faces to FB profiles. Felt a little funny going up to some people, as some more than others share their lives with us on-line. To know a little more intimate details about someone you've actually never met face-to-face, then to meet them face-to-face - well, more than once I got tongue-tied and really had no idea what to say (and for those that know me, you will find that hard to believe).

I did find myself feeling a bit out of place, though, especially the first day. There were quite a few 'cliques' going on and a lot of authors had their followings. Not to say that's bad, but it did make this newbie feel like an outsider. What did I have to offer other than the two novels I'd written? Could they even be compared to the prolific works of many of the featured authors? I felt so small at first, but when people actually brought copies of my books for them to sign and also tell me how much the books meant to them ... I felt it was all worth it. By Saturday I felt much more brave and actually introduced myself to people (instead of waiting to be introduced or waiting for them to introduce themselves). I think I needed one more day and I would have sprouted into a real social butterfly. By Saturday evening I felt much more confident. Wonder of the event organizers would consider a full-week convention in the future?

So, what to improve? Well, I'm putting the book selling tax fiasco behind me. I feel bad for the authors and publishers who had to give up a large percentage, but all I could do was offer my help and it wasn't needed. Moving on.

I'm going to briefly mention the hotel, as the hotel and its staff are well beyond the control of concom. The hotel knew we were coming, yet they did not have extra staff on hand and actually were woefully understaffed. Common sense notions (like leaving four towels per room when there were four people in the room) didn't seem to be a concern. So weird for a Hilton to not leave four washcloths, four hand towels and four bathtowels at the very least when the room was made up.

Okay, so the convention. As stated above, I enjoyed listening to the authors and liked how they had Q&As, spotlights and readings. What I was disappointed about was the lack of 'general' panel Q&A topics. For example, why not have a panel on how to deal with trolls (both as an author and reader - trolls are equal-opportunity idiots you know). Or how about one on how to write a good critique or review - not just the 'OMG I love this book! You must read it!' Or one on marketing, or how to use social media, or how to find new authors to read or how to read outside your comfort zone, or ... you get the idea. This convention, to my knowledge, was created to be a readers' convention. It needs to cater to the readers a bit more and not to the authors' egos.

And why did they limit the panels to featured authors only? There was no criteria to differentiate from featured to supporting other than the money paid. I think panels could have started earlier, gone later and more of them to choose from. If the Hilton is the common size for this type of convention and the con attendance was around 500, more panels can be easily held. (I actually had been waiting throughout Aug/Sep to be asked what panels I'd like to be on - sorta like the fan cons I've gone to in the past). I didn't realize it was only featured authors that get to sit on panels.

I was also shocked that every single event was held at the hotel. While there is an expense to driving into Chicago, it has a very vibrant gay community. Why on earth were we stuck at the hotel? I'd think for a nominal fee we all could have went club hopping one evening. Rent a couple of buses so everyone can drink to their hearts' content and go out and get sweaty.

As for newbies, while I do know there was a newbie breakfast thing on Thursday morning, it would be been nice to have one in the evening (or early afternoon) on Thursday to accommodate those that came in late or for those of us who just aren't morning people.

And lastly, the meaning of 'brunch' - a late morning meal eaten instead of breakfast or lunch. Thus 'brunch' does NOT start at 8am. Brunch should start around 10a/11a (and I thought I read the on-line app schedule that said brunch started at 11a - the start time unfortunately was in grey and was hard to read on a white screen, while the end time was in blue and popped out.) If you are going to start at 8am, call it breakfast. Was a little pissed about that one as I had planned on going.

All-in-all, I was glad I went. Had an awesome time with a great group of friends at the sushi place - Kabuki in Glendale Heights. It was definitely a dinner and a show all in one.

Next year it's going to be in San Diego. California is extremely expensive and I don't see how plane fare will be much less than $500. Even if I bunk with three others again, probably looking at minimum $200-$300 for hotel and even eating conservatively at maybe $200 for the five days, looking at at least a grand to just get there, get a roof over my head and food to eat. Not to mention registration fees, pet-sitting fees back here at home and hoping I could get the time off work. <sigh> I need to win the lottery. If only I played it. Perhaps a long-lost relative will pass and give me lots of money. Or that Nigerian prince comes through. You never know.

For those on the west coast, yes, go. It is worth it, even with some of the drawbacks. It was such an honor to talk to those that have read my books (and then be asked when the next one was coming out!) 

So now I am rejuvenated. I feel like writing again. Maybe not today as I'm very sleep-deprived and there's not telling what might come out, but this week, definitely. I've got a YA novel started that I'd like to try to finish before NaNoWriMo so I can finish a vampire novel I've been working on for NaNo. (I know you're not supposed to have something started for NaNo, but my goal for the book is around 90k and I've got around 40k done, so the 50k is all new stuff for November LOL.)

For now, I bid everyone a fond adieu as I need a nap. Rocky and I are going to snuggle on the couch while the football game lulls us to sleep.

Guest Author - A. Morell

Please welcome guest author A. Morell and her new release 'Puncture Wounds!'


James is at the end of a long crusade for vengeance against the vampire clan that destroyed everything he held dear. He has Ren, the final and most dangerous of them all, cornered at last in London. But victory remains just out of reach when Ren sets a feral vampire on James and makes his escape. With no other leads, James is forced to take in the feral until he can use its connection to its sire to track down Ren. But in caring for the vampire, James sees they might not all be the monsters he thought them to be. Faced with an ugly truth, his quest for revenge becomes a war for retribution, and the discovery of what it truly means to be human. 

Puncture Wounds
by A. Morell
AVAILABLE NOW!

Happy release day! It's been a fun ride getting the story to this point, and at long last it's available to all. Join James on his journey, and help him see it through to the bitter end. Congrats to all my winners, enjoy your free copies! Read on for an excerpt and links to some exclusive sneak peeks into the story: 

James fumbled to regain control, and it took a second to realize that it wasn’t teeth he felt now—it was a soft and damp tongue. The almost constant rumbling from deep in the creature’s chest had morphed at some point, from warning growls to what sounded suspiciously like a purr. James felt his skin crawl and tore himself away, stumbling a bit when he stood too fast. 

He was reeling. Everything from the past twenty-four hours suddenly came crashing down around him at once. In so short a time, he’d had the last of his sworn enemies in the palm of his hand, let him escape, and brought a feral monster into his own house. And he’d fed it. 

James fumbled his way into the kitchen, eying the sink as he felt his stomach threaten to heave. He pushed himself to the fridge, grabbing a nutrition drink and forcing its contents down his throat along with the bile. He reminded himself that he needed it to help his blood recover, and this was all according to plan—take in the feral and get it sane enough to track the one who’d made it. 

He braced himself against the counter with both arms, repeating the plan in his head until the moment passed.

He was too busy to notice at first, but something was wrong—nothing hurt. He looked back down at his arm. 

It had completely healed.

More on Puncture Wounds:

Start the first chapter | Behind-the-scenes glimpse | Have a taste | A look at the characters

About A. Morell:

A. Morell spent ten years writing silly things for herself, going through work, school, and a failed career path in the culinary arts before deciding it was time to submit to a publisher. She still writes silly things for herself, but now some of them get pretty-looking covers. She has never looked back. 

Hailing from the San Francisco Bay Area, she greatly enjoys food, baseball, shopping, tattoos, karaoke, and old bookstores. She is averse to spiders, zombies, over-used words, tardiness, inclement weather, and the misquotation of movie lines and lyrics. Her dream is to retire to Hawaii immediately. She has one cat. 

For more A. Morell, stop by the blog or twitter, or contact directly at sans.morale@gmail.com.