ACK! I almost forgot….

Absolute Perfection has been accepted and edoted at Loos Id Press! WOO HOO! LOL I’ll let you know when the release date is set! This one is a m/m romance between a Imperial Naga and a Royal Sea Horse! LOL Talk about pantheons gone amok! LOL

Flash

The Road To RT….

OOOkay! Getting ready for RT! It’s almost here! WOO HOO!

No more creating costumes, no more crafting baskets, no more shopping all over the place for the perfect promo! WOO HOO!

Now its time to prepare for the drive, get ready to see friends I haven;t seen for at least a year, and time to enjoy the actual writing part by getting to talk about it with people who won;t try to lock me up when I say that my characters talk to me! WOO HOO!

I will take dozens of photos in my new costumes, I will dance and party and have fun, and I will bid farewell to RT. This is the last one I will be attending for a long time so I intend to go out with a bang! *g*

Flash, singing You Drop the Bomb on Me! LOL

My Day…Well, it could be worse…

Ooookay. I got a frantic phone call around 5 this morning. One of my bestest friends contacted me. Her Hubby is very ill, passed out on the toilet, and broke the tank.

When he came too, he cleaned up best he could and woke her up. She said she would fix it, and then noticed the slaughter.

So, early this morning, we were off to the Home Depot to replace the tank and if not the whole toilet. We stopped where I was treated to a nice breakfast sandwich and coffee. WOO HOO!

We would up having to replace the whole toilet. This is an easy fix as long as you have the equipment. We thought we did.

But first, I slashed my finger open in two places with the porcelain from the tank. I think I found the most perfect murder weapon, sharp and deadly, cleans up easily and can me crushed into so much dust and sprinkled around a beach to get rid of it. It is so sharp in fact, that I didn’t know I cut myself until I my hands started slipping in the blood during the all important bolt removal process.

Two bleed through band aids, and I mean the good ones, a rubber glove was applied to the affected hand and toilet remove carried on.

Broken pieces were removed, the new toiled uncrated in pieces, the old one and the busted tank placed very very carefully inside, and the new wax ring and toilet installed! Success! It was perfect! It was the most  beautiful porcelain throne ever…

Unfortunately, we didn’t have a flex pipe to attach the water line to the toilet. I didn’t even think about getting one when we got the new toilet. I just assumed the old one was flex. Stupid me! And I was thinking about it too! I looked at the flex pipes, I smiled at the price, and then I moved on! ARGH!

Back to the store were we got the pipe and a few other things that were on sale, and then back to the toilet and the stupid stupid pipe. And then the stupid stupid pope got revenge. The nut holding it onto the the friggin water supply would not move. We twisted, we took turns tugging, we screamed softly (her DH is still sick) and we cut up our hands. We even banged ourselves against the newly installed perfect toilet (Wished we knew about the stuck nut before we installed the new toilet)  but the ^%^@*^$ thing wouldn’t move.

Back to another store for WD40! CVS wanted 7 bucks for a small can of the shit! So… we ran across 4 lanes of traffic to the Family Dollar and got the same can for 3 bucks.

And then the nut came off with minimal blood on the new toilet.

And them my coffee was tossed into the garbage by accident.

And then the breakfast sandwich I was supposed to eat was forgotten and too cold to consume. And then my friend took me to lunch were we licked our wounds and prayed that the next fix would involve less blood shed.

three hours, two trips to the home depot, one fruitless trip to CVS so it don’t count, one trip to the family Dollar, a morning spent wet and cold (I am not even getting into how we had to haul buckets of water from the neighbors house cause her shut off valve for the upstairs WC didn’t;t work and we had to shut off the water suppl to the whole house)—-

the cost—one back ache and one hard typing hand (at least its the middle finger that is tapped up to hell and gone, especially to drivers who almost hit me while talking on cell phones) and some minor blood shed.

Being a true friend *(and cleaning up—touching toilet water) when the chips are down because actions will always speak louder than any words or gifts– priceless.

And then the mail came……WAAAAA!!!!!!!!! Not getting into it! Not getting into that! Not getting into that!!!!!

Flash

The Power of Words

I bundled in my bed, still waiting for them to come and fix my furnace, when I was struck with an epiphany of sorts.

I mean here I am at seven in the am and I am thinking prolific thoughts.

At first, i wanted to blame it on the back pain. I mean, arthritis (Not to mention falling down the friggin stairs) when its roughtly 35 degrees outside and 50 degrees in is cause for aches and pains, but clear life changing thoughts? Me? Never!

Well, maybe.

Okay, I was out and about yesterday, lap top in hand, and trying to get some work done to try and finish one of the many books I keep starting. Adult ADHD anyone? While I was trying to come up with a new and inventive way to show shifter sex, one of my best frinds called and asked that I go out to lunch with her.

Okay, I agree. I think at this point a break would be good. I just expanded Unus form the 30,000 word short into a 60,000 word prequel, and added another chapter to Lunch, and am trying to finish Bacchus for Changeling, and something, anything for EC, and…. Okay. I need a break, The voices in my head are starting to sound like white noise.

So here we are, Trish, a new friend Latrice, and I, sitting in Ruby Tuesday’s discussing their diets of all things.Low carb this, fat free that, and getting the usual slinny jokes that goes along when I mention anything about diet and exercise. Lets face it, my idea of a balanced diet is a double stuffed oreo in one hand and a baby carrot drenched in French onion dip in the other while sipping on pineapple oj with a chocolate bar waiting in teh wings.]

But they look so depressed about it, I start talking, saying anything to make them happy, to ease their minds, to get a smile. And the more they don;t smile, the more depressed I get. SO I go thought the jokes that are fit for social acceptance and some that are not,( I got to tell you all that colored joke that some idiot racist told me and I reclaimed with much laughter and shocked faces), and then observations that are dead on about some people in the place, and finally I start on personal stories about the crap that has happened to me. And would you know my life’s misery is what made them laugh?

Depressing.

But they were finally smiling and looking happy and the more I got the skinny jokes, and the clumsy jokes, and the you were an idipt to try and talk to that person jokes, the more futile my life seemed.

I mean here I am, trying my best to pull myself out of a writers slump, trying to get my words out of my head and onto some paper, and I realize that my life can be summed up as one big joke.

Isn;t that a kick in the arse?

It was nothing that they said, its the same old jokes over and over. It was more of the realization that as much as I want to say its otherwise, I am not normal.

Then I stared thinking about all the things that led me up to this point, the arguments with publishers, the way I fizzled out when I missed my first deadline, the disappointment I see in myself when I can;t deliver like I could a few years ago, the people who told me to go and sit in the big kids table instead of expanding my potential writer-friend base, everytime someone has told me they hated me at sight but realized that they liked me after talking to me and left me wondering what vibes do I give off if people can hate me just by looking at me, oh there was that and a lot more going through my head and I swear for the first time in years, I wanted to cry.

And then I realized that I haven;t cired in years! Not when my Mom almost died, not when I lost my adopted baby nephew and couldn’t even go to his funeral for fear of breaking into a million pieces, not when my Dad got sick and they hid it from me, not when x box pulled out all the money form my back account and managed to get away with it even after lawyers were involved, not when i fell on my ass and broke my back, not when things didn;t quite turn out the way I expected them to or when some people slapped me int he face when I tired to be a friend, not even when they had to pull that basted dead tooth out of my head with minimal anesthesia cause I was already on meds for pain and pneumonia and loss of hearing.

So now they are at the salad bar and I am sitting at the table with a shell shocked look on my face. I don;t even remember them getting up. I am sitting there, thinking about the waste my life is and thought all of this my major stresser was because I couldn’t make my friends smile?

Then the most curious think happened.

A lady walked up to me and gave me a hug.

“You are trying to hard,” she said to me.”You can’t make sense of it if you dwell on it.”

Somebody tell me what the hell that means?

Dwelling on it is what you do to get to an answer! You turn it over, you examine it from every angle, you make notes to see where you went wrong and how you approach the next time, and…

You never really see the problems if you are picking apart what you could have done to prevent it. Sigh. I guess that would make me arrogant to a degree, thinking that everything is about me or my role in it.

I guess that means sometimes thigns just happen, no miracle, no fate, nothing you can do to change it…

I don’t know. But somehow her words made me want to cry.

And I said all of that to say that some woman whom I never met before almost moved my butt to tears over a few words to someone she will probably never see again.

And a day later, I am still thinking about what she said. My ass is still skinny and freezing while waiting for the furnace guy bundled under some blankets, my bank account is still empty, I am still looking at five stories on my computer screen with all the characters screaming in my head, my friends are still trying this low carb diet, my life still seems to be fodder for America’s Next Stand-Up Master or skits for comedy shows somewhere, and her words are still ringing in my head, making me want to reevaluate, well everything!

My conclusions are …

My life is a huge cosmic joke and I am fine with that as long as I can laugh with the universe.
Shit happens.
My friends and family are vastly importatn to me as is seeing to their well being. Mother complex maybe, but if I can make life a little bit better for someone, then I feel that I have done something that God intended us to do.
I am disorganized and need to get my act together much better than the minor improvements I have made.
I need to take my own advice and write something for fun everyday so that I will never forget that I came out laughing at my misfortunes and I will probably still be laughing when someone drops a house in on my head, so I had better learn to deal with the cosmic joke thing.
I will stop letting the words of those who hate me, those who feel that I have done them wrong without even telling me what I did in the first place, those who tell me to sit at the big kids table like I am not struggling like the rest of us, those who smile in my face and talk about me behind my back, those who dismiss me as a joke that my life can sometimes become, stop flooding my mind and making me question myself…and just go have a piece of cheese cake instead. Mmmm cheese cake.
I need to call my Mommy and Daddy more.
I will always be one pay check away from disaster, unless some long forgotten rich relative leaves me in their will when they kick off…and I really doubt that will happen, so don’t buy the Vivian Westwood Rocking Horse Shoes!!! No matter where you found them on Ebay and at what cost!!!
I will pull out ever erotic book cover, bit of research, photos of bondage and domination, and submission, whips, photo’s of drag queens I have made up, make-up, and wigs, and anything else fetish that I can find and lay it out so that the repair guy will get very uncomfortable and embarrassed and stare at Den in confusion, and hurry the hell up and fix my damn furnace! Subtle revenge is the best revenge!!!

I will write this woman’s words up and place then where i can see them daily.

I guess strangers can sometimes care and their words can have meanings that the never even contemplated. So I had better be careful what I say in the future.

If that ain’t power, then I don’t know what is.

it’s snow!

ARGH White Death from Above

DAY 2, snowpocalypse, supplies getting low. If the rum bottle hits empty then there will be no telling what I would do. Carrots and dip remain plentiful for now but for how long? The oven is taunting me, cursing me, trying to force me to turn it on and back something sticky and gooey. I refuse, feeling the natives will …expect fresh baked goods all the time. But I fear my resolve is weakening.
The pass is now snowed over and the workers refuse to venture back out into the storm until visibility is no linger an issue. I fear I will soon have a revolt on my hands. God help us if the supply of toilet paper, milk, and bread runs out. If that happens–if that happens then surly White Death from Above will surely claim us all! ROTLFMAO

Actually, since the kids are out for the week, I have but them to work! Oh they are begging to go back to school now!

They scrubbed hte kitchen floor in the good old fashioned way, on thier hands and knees, baby! And then they were forced to help me clean my office. I couldn;t write in there. It was coverd with Manga, and video games, and childrnes books, and all thier crap they had no idea to do wiht, and a rabbit. Well, the rest of the stuf fins gone, thy bunny stays, but I can sit and write there now! WOO HOO! No more hiding in the bedroom. Now if I can get a door…. *G8 After that, my sitting room got a thought scrubbing, cat hair removal, carpet cleaning and wall wipe down. THen we danced into the Living room where the couches were scrubbed, and dusted, the carpet was cleaned and all traces of children were eradicated…okay almost. HTe video game systems can stay. *g*

I made Dev walk to the market with me, who told him to get taller than me anyway, and we haled a guy push his minivan off of the solid sheet of ice our road has become. Plow trucks? What are those? This is Baltimore City, Hon! THE drivers are probably still celebrating the Colt’s defeat! LOL But we have to dig ourselves out until the city can get to us, which will probably be somewhere around Sunday if we are lucky. WEll, we descended onto the empty market filled whit panicking shoppers and old people telling stories about the great one back on aught seventy three, sussed out some food type stuffs, snacks were at an all time low thanks to Super Bowl Parties, but I got my carrots and French Onion dip. Mama is pleased. We trudged home with our spoils and I got to list to Dev make arthritis jokes along the way, until I gave him teh bigger bags to carry. He’s bigger than me anyway, time for him to carry the three gallon jug of juice! LOL He shut up soon after that and remained subdued form teh remainder of the trek home. I love making a point without having to say a word! LOL

Once back home, they went over everything they missed before I dressed Malani in costume and stuck her out in the falling snow to take some costume photos. She looks so cute and so ticked! LOL Mommy, I;m cold! Shut up and hold the candle higher. I need to get the glitter sparkling on your face! LOL I am such a mean mommy!

Then I allowed them to shower and I gave them the donuts I secretly sequestered for them at the market. See? Some small reward for cleaning up the mess that they made int eh first place. the house smells like a combo of Lysol and febreeze. Yeah Me! *g*

Then it was time for me to lick my wounds. I dislocated my hip three times, I strained my back muscles, I gave myself on massive migraine, and my hands feel like they are twisting apart from the inside, stupid joint pain. But the house is clean for the most part.

Today, I make them do the pantry! WOO HOO! Child Labor! *g* And if all goes according to plan, there will de three books finished by tomorrow. Now I jjust have to beg my editors to take a look at them for publication.

Flash, Working in a winter wonderland.
–

First chapter of Space Opera, Mezzo Forte

Um, it gets worse before it gets better for our Torajinn and our ryujinn. But it does improve…I promise! *g*

Flash

His chest was swelling.

It was hot and painful to touch, and absolutely pointless.

He could feel his nipples become more sensitive and change to a dark pink color…and he dropped his head and wept.

What good was it to develop the ability to feed a child that would not be nurtured from his body anyway?

Yet, he couldn’t resist poking at the slight swelling.

It hurt, yes, but it was a reminder. It was a reminder of the loss he was about to suffer and the even worse heart rending agony he was about to endure.

“Javen,” his mate whispered, but the ryuujin turned away. He wrapped himself tighter around the egg that held the place of honor in his nest.

He had been there for days, crying, brooding, and wishing that he had never left the Space Station. Even if the humans had been secretive and dangerous, he was sure that they would have at least let him nurse his child through infancy.

But these so called Ancients, the elders that brought them forth, had turned out to be the worst monsters he could ever imagine.

There was always a cost, and Javen knew this. He realized it from the first time that he was labeled as unmatable and destined for destruction. He knew that there would be a cost when he found his Gara and had reared the child with all the traditions and culture that the winged pairs had created for themselves. He knew that he would have to pay when his mate rose in the ranks to become High Lord Chancellor and again when he discovered that he was carrying their child.

But he never expected the price to be so high.

“Javen,” Gara sated again, this time reaching out and gripping the distraught dragon’s shoulder.

But he couldn’t summon up enough energy to move. He didn’t really care.

No one could understand what he was going though. No one knew what it felt like to have their soul rent into two.

“Javen, My One….”

“Leave him,”

Javen flinched, his eyes narrowing as he heard the voice of his second. Mizuki sounded concerned, but Javen could barely rally more emotion than resentment for him.

He was trying hard not to hate Mizuki, the ryuujin had nothing to do with the ancients, but still…it was hard.

Javen wrapped his arms tighter around himself, and pretended that they all didn’t exist.

“Mizuki,” Gara began, but Mizuki cut him off.

“He has to grieve.”

“We have to go!” Gara sounded no more ready to abandon their egg than Javen was to move, but he was still insisting.

“The world can wait!” Mizuki almost screamed, the fear of the High Lord Chancelor noting when compare to another maternal creature responding to a beloved family members pain. “Those filthy humans won’t die out if you give Javen time. He had his heart torn out after being offered its ease. He needs time to grieve.”

“Ever since he told me of the message, of the message Otohime

delivered, I have done nothing but grieve.”

“Yet you were not the one to bear the desired burden of carrying a child only to be told that you have to give it up.”

“But….” Gara sounded confused. “We will only be gone a short time….”

“You seem to forget your own creation, young one.”

When Mizuki spoke like that, Javen knew that it would force Gara to acknowledge that the green haired ryuujin was centuries older than him.

“You seem to forget that we Ryuujin have an instinctive need to imprint ourselves…just as the Torajinn. It is safe to conclude that this child will imprint itself on the first being it sees. And because Shinji cannot actually sit the egg with the right amount of heat and cold, it is also safe to assume that I will be sitting that egg. And when the egg cracks and your child breaks free, High Lord, who do you think will be the first one it sees?”

There was a heavy sigh, a heart wrenching sound, and Gara spoke again.

“I know that, Mizuki, but…. But I must do what must be done. If not, we run the risk of all of us being expelled from this place. And if that happens, what will happen to both of your eggs?”

“I understand that very well, high Lord Chancellor,” Mizuki returned. “But that does no matter when your paradise has already been torn asunder.”

Shortly after that, the both left, and Javen was again left alone to ponder the unfairness, the brutality, and the injustice of this life he was forced to lead.

“Can’t live, can’t die, only go forward,” he sighed, more tears pouring form his red swollen eyes.

Soon, he would be leaving soon. He knew he had to and he would do his duty, but that didn’t stop the pain…and it didn’t stop the hate.

Why in the name of the Creator and the Ancients did a martyr have to be sacrifice to be a hero?

Master Web Designer, I’m Not

I am having issues with my Go Daddy account…Don’t ask. Really, cause I can’t explain it. But while I am trying to fix it, fellow author D Renee Bagby linked TheFlashCat.net here, so I can give up on the good updates and things.

Of course, I never really learned how to operate this site either!

So…hand in there with me as I go back to school for the techno impaired and figure this thing out.

Updates and photos to follow…as soon as I figure out what ccs, pingbacks, shortlinks and other interestingly oxymoronic words mean!

I have the Viking helping out on this one, and if all else fails, time to throw on a wig and beg The Pirate for help! LOL

Thanks for hanging in there with me

Flash