Chrissy Munder's Blog, page 78
January 29, 2011
Dreamspinner Authors Chatting at Love Romances Cafe (Discounts! Excerpts!)
Pssssst: Ariel has posted the first discount code!! Cold and feeling the January blahs? No football game to nap along with? Tired of "Mega Python Vs. Gatoroid" on the SyFy Channel? Come keep warm and steamy with the Dreamspinner Authors. Chatting now over at Love Romances Cafe Yahoo Group.
As promised, there are excerpts, fun questions for the authors, discount codes and giveaways.
As promised, there are excerpts, fun questions for the authors, discount codes and giveaways.
January 27, 2011
Excerpt Thursday! After the Storm
Imagine my surprise when deep in my new year, organizational fervor (slightly slowed down but still in progress) I realized I didn't have an excerpt up for After the Storm. What was I thinking?
Without further pause:
After the Storm by Chrissy Munder. Available from Dreamspinner Press.
Buy Link: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?cPath=55_128&products_id=1773
Like Reviews? Click here
Summary: Angry and frustrated with his chronic illness, Vincent Poulsen moves into an old lighthouse to live out the few days he has left. After a dangerous collapse, he meets the ghostly Captain Cason, who shares stories of his distant past. In the process, Vincent stumbles over the tragedy that binds the captain to the lighthouse and his haunted memories. Then fate offers them in death a chance to make right what they couldn't in life....
Reprint: This novella was originally published in the Dreamspinner Press anthology Desire Beyond Death.
Excerpt:
"…AND so with a burst of fire and brimstone the evil spirit snatched Obadiah from the lip of the well and the brilliant light of day and life that lay before him, so close he could almost touch it, and dragged him back down into the deepest pit of hell."
The speaker held the last syllable, letting the words hang heavily in the chilly night air. For a moment, the only sound was the crackle of the fire and the sound of the water hitting the shore. The small group of boys shivered with morbid delight as they sat in the damp sand and huddled closer to the flames before breaking the silence with their excited demands.
"Tell us another one."
"Do you know one about the lighthouse?"
Their storyteller hesitated before leaning closer to the group of boys. "Plenty of dark tales about this lighthouse. Full of death and danger on the big lake. Ghosts too."
The boys clamored as one, eager to hear more, the lure of the unknown calling to them from the darkness as the storyteller held up his hand to catch their attention before giving in and beginning another tale.
"It was in the mid-1800s; lumber was king and fortunes were made ripping the pine from Michigan's forests and shipping it to Chicago and Wisconsin." He swept his eyes around the group of boys, making sure no one had wandered off, drawn by instinctive fascination to the surf.
"The lighthouse here at White River was an important one, manned by one keeper and one keeper only. It was a hard and solitary life with only a local crew of volunteers that would come to aid in rescue and recovery efforts. Captain Cason was a stranger to this land, exiled from his native England. He'd been a ship's captain and had sailed most of the known world before he retired young.
"The reasons are lost with time. Some say his wife had just given birth and wanted him on dry land." The storyteller's voice lowered ominously. "Others say he committed a deed so foul that the sentence was banishment from his ship and the life he loved, and he was left stranded
here on the Michigan coast, alone in the windswept tower of the lighthouse."
"Oooooh," the boys breathed as one, each speculating as to what foulness could have been the captain's base crime, suitable to earn such a terrible punishment.
"Still others say he fell in love and here is where he and his lover retreated to spend their lives together; outcast and adrift from Society. Whatever the reasons, Captain Cason was a braw man. Hard as the stone the lighthouse is made of they said, and just as fearless. He saved more men from this Point than any other Keeper and on his watch the lighthouse burned brighter and clearer than either before or since."
"So what happened to him?" one of the bigger boys called out from the darkness. The low flames flickered, casting scant light on the face of the storyteller as he continued.
"Well, not a soul really knows for sure but 'tis said he and his one true love fought and his love left the lighthouse, leaving Captain Cason alone. A great storm blew in—gale strength winds and waves strong and deep, high enough to swamp the best of them.
"Too late the captain's love had realized they couldn't be apart and had taken passage aboard a schooner called the Titan, which was caught out in the storm. The ship foundered and split clean open, mayhap by lightning, mayhap by God's wrath.
"The storm was so fierce the local volunteers couldn't make it to man the rescue boat, and Captain Cason took her out alone against the elements. He battled with great might, but couldn't reach the vessel in time and all aboard were lost. They say he found his one true love washed up on the shoreline: hair dark as night, tangled with weeds from the lake bottom and stirring softly in the current, skin cold and pale.
"The captain cursed God and swore he'd never save another soul since he couldn't save this one. The captain drowned that day as well, holding close the corpse of his love and refusing to let go even when the tide rose, kissing the lips that could never warm to his again. Be it fact or fiction, their bodies were never found.
"And so for his sin he haunted this lighthouse, God's punishment for his curse, unable to join his one true love in heaven until he saved another soul."
"Aaaaahhhhh." The group of boys looked up at the abandoned lighthouse as one, straining to see some sign of the captain's haunting spirit in the darkness. "So he's still here?"
"Well, now." The storyteller began again, satisfied with the results of his tale. "Let me put a bit more wood on the fire, and I'll tell you another tale of the old lighthouse. One more recent and more strange. You see, there was an artist…."
After the Storm by Chrissy Munder. Available from Dreamspinner Press.
Buy Link:http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?cPath=55_128&products_id=1773
Without further pause:
After the Storm by Chrissy Munder. Available from Dreamspinner Press.
Buy Link: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?cPath=55_128&products_id=1773
Like Reviews? Click here
Summary: Angry and frustrated with his chronic illness, Vincent Poulsen moves into an old lighthouse to live out the few days he has left. After a dangerous collapse, he meets the ghostly Captain Cason, who shares stories of his distant past. In the process, Vincent stumbles over the tragedy that binds the captain to the lighthouse and his haunted memories. Then fate offers them in death a chance to make right what they couldn't in life....Reprint: This novella was originally published in the Dreamspinner Press anthology Desire Beyond Death.
Excerpt:
"…AND so with a burst of fire and brimstone the evil spirit snatched Obadiah from the lip of the well and the brilliant light of day and life that lay before him, so close he could almost touch it, and dragged him back down into the deepest pit of hell."
The speaker held the last syllable, letting the words hang heavily in the chilly night air. For a moment, the only sound was the crackle of the fire and the sound of the water hitting the shore. The small group of boys shivered with morbid delight as they sat in the damp sand and huddled closer to the flames before breaking the silence with their excited demands.
"Tell us another one."
"Do you know one about the lighthouse?"
Their storyteller hesitated before leaning closer to the group of boys. "Plenty of dark tales about this lighthouse. Full of death and danger on the big lake. Ghosts too."
The boys clamored as one, eager to hear more, the lure of the unknown calling to them from the darkness as the storyteller held up his hand to catch their attention before giving in and beginning another tale.
"It was in the mid-1800s; lumber was king and fortunes were made ripping the pine from Michigan's forests and shipping it to Chicago and Wisconsin." He swept his eyes around the group of boys, making sure no one had wandered off, drawn by instinctive fascination to the surf.
"The lighthouse here at White River was an important one, manned by one keeper and one keeper only. It was a hard and solitary life with only a local crew of volunteers that would come to aid in rescue and recovery efforts. Captain Cason was a stranger to this land, exiled from his native England. He'd been a ship's captain and had sailed most of the known world before he retired young.
"The reasons are lost with time. Some say his wife had just given birth and wanted him on dry land." The storyteller's voice lowered ominously. "Others say he committed a deed so foul that the sentence was banishment from his ship and the life he loved, and he was left stranded
here on the Michigan coast, alone in the windswept tower of the lighthouse."
"Oooooh," the boys breathed as one, each speculating as to what foulness could have been the captain's base crime, suitable to earn such a terrible punishment.
"Still others say he fell in love and here is where he and his lover retreated to spend their lives together; outcast and adrift from Society. Whatever the reasons, Captain Cason was a braw man. Hard as the stone the lighthouse is made of they said, and just as fearless. He saved more men from this Point than any other Keeper and on his watch the lighthouse burned brighter and clearer than either before or since."
"So what happened to him?" one of the bigger boys called out from the darkness. The low flames flickered, casting scant light on the face of the storyteller as he continued.
"Well, not a soul really knows for sure but 'tis said he and his one true love fought and his love left the lighthouse, leaving Captain Cason alone. A great storm blew in—gale strength winds and waves strong and deep, high enough to swamp the best of them.
"Too late the captain's love had realized they couldn't be apart and had taken passage aboard a schooner called the Titan, which was caught out in the storm. The ship foundered and split clean open, mayhap by lightning, mayhap by God's wrath.
"The storm was so fierce the local volunteers couldn't make it to man the rescue boat, and Captain Cason took her out alone against the elements. He battled with great might, but couldn't reach the vessel in time and all aboard were lost. They say he found his one true love washed up on the shoreline: hair dark as night, tangled with weeds from the lake bottom and stirring softly in the current, skin cold and pale.
"The captain cursed God and swore he'd never save another soul since he couldn't save this one. The captain drowned that day as well, holding close the corpse of his love and refusing to let go even when the tide rose, kissing the lips that could never warm to his again. Be it fact or fiction, their bodies were never found.
"And so for his sin he haunted this lighthouse, God's punishment for his curse, unable to join his one true love in heaven until he saved another soul."
"Aaaaahhhhh." The group of boys looked up at the abandoned lighthouse as one, straining to see some sign of the captain's haunting spirit in the darkness. "So he's still here?"
"Well, now." The storyteller began again, satisfied with the results of his tale. "Let me put a bit more wood on the fire, and I'll tell you another tale of the old lighthouse. One more recent and more strange. You see, there was an artist…."
After the Storm by Chrissy Munder. Available from Dreamspinner Press.
Buy Link:http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?cPath=55_128&products_id=1773
January 26, 2011
Did you pick up your free copy of Wishing on a Blue Star yet?
By now most of us know that January 25th was the release day for the Wishing on a Blue Star Anthology. A special project by Dreamspinner Press & ManLoveRomance Press, Edited by Kris Jacen.But did you know that you may pick up a copy for free? Just by clicking here ?
With contributions by Jaime Samms, Jacqueline Lichtenberg, ZA Maxfield, C. Zampa, Lex Valentine, Patric Michael, Karenna Colcroft, Tame Adams, Victor J. Banis, Brian Holliday, Jambrea Jo Jones, Mary Calmes, Jan Irving, Jean Lorrah, Moira McCain, Clare London, D.W. Marchwell, Taylor Lochland, Amy Lane, and yours truly, that's a lot of good reading for no cost.
But, even without the contributions by an amazing list of authors read this anthology for Patric's blog posts. Personal, painful, and enlightening. They are a poignant reminder to caregivers, medical professionals, friends, and acquaintences that humanity doesn't vanish at the onset of disease.
January 24, 2011
What day is it again? Or, a little too much RL in my RL
Goodness me! I can't believe it's been almost 2 weeks since I've been out and about in web world. What have I missed? To everyone at Clare's Bday blog heartfelt apologies for not swinging by and commenting. All I can say is that there's been too much real life in my real life, and don't we all hate when that happens?
Coming up:
The January 25th release of Wishing on a Blue Star. Truly this anthology was a labor of love by everyone involved, and I'm so honored to have been a small part of it.
January 29th - it's the Dreamspinner Authors over at the Love Romances Cafe Yahoo Group from 4pm - 11pm EST. Chatting, excerpts, fun times galore.
Coming up:
The January 25th release of Wishing on a Blue Star. Truly this anthology was a labor of love by everyone involved, and I'm so honored to have been a small part of it.
January 29th - it's the Dreamspinner Authors over at the Love Romances Cafe Yahoo Group from 4pm - 11pm EST. Chatting, excerpts, fun times galore.
January 10, 2011
Today's Idle Thought...
I really, really love the way Live Journal lets me add an interesting blog feed to my friend's list even though the original blog is outside the LJ format. A win for time managment, and let's face it, I'm the average internet user. If I have to go in search of... I probably won't. Thanks as well to those who post links to interesting blogs I am otherwise unaware of so I may add them to my LJ feed.
January 6, 2011
Excerpt Thursday! Drive Me Home
I may have to declare January as Drive Me Home Month. A big and hearty thank-you to everyone who has read this novel in the last month and emailed me.
Drive Me Home by Chrissy Munder
Buy Link: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?cPath=55_128&products_id=993
Like Reviews? Click here
Summary: Las Vegas isn't just a glamorous, glitzy playground for high rollers, Elvis impersonators, and blushing newlyweds. It's also a seedy, worn-out dumping ground for the lonely, the broken, and the lost. Eric Moss is one of those drifters, just marking time, until he meets two very different men, both of whom could change his life.
Marc Evans is a rich casino owner. He offers Eric safety, security, and a chance to regain some of his ravaged past. Brad Torres is a garage mechanic. He offers Eric nothing at all.
The choice might have been easy, if Eric weren't intensely attracted to both men. He has to choose between Sin City's sparkling lights and a life in the shadows—will he be able to live with his heart's decision?
Excerpt:
"The come stains are the worst, you know."
The voice came from behind a startled Eric. He instinctively tried to stand up, only to wince, rubbing his head where he hit it against the top of the limo's unforgiving metal doorframe.
"Yeah." The voice continued. "I hate them worse than puke. Come stains always mean somebody had a much better time than I did."
Eric managed to stand up without further damage and turned to face the voice. One soft brown eye winked at him and then gave him an obvious up and down the likes of which he had not experienced in years. The guy probably knew everything up to and including the length of his dick when hard with that look.
"Hey." He lightly protested the thoroughness. "Leave a guy some secrets."
"Sorry." The unrepentant smirk under the tousled dark curls didn't match the sentiment and Eric was unable to keep himself from smiling back. Even though the unknotted tie was in danger of sliding off one shoulder the black pants, vest and white shirt immediately identified the newcomer as a fellow driver.
There were six of the stretch limousines parked in the big open bay of Discreet Limousine's garage complex. Eric had seen a couple of the other drivers in passing when he showed up early for his new job, his intent to familiarize himself before the start of his shift. This dark haired beauty hadn't been one of them.
"You the new guy?" Long eyelashes fanned down over the sideways glance as the newcomer inhaled on his cigarette. The wisps of smoke curled up as he pursed his lips slightly on the exhalation. Oh yeah, Eric thought. Definitely a real charmer.
"Yeah, that would be me. Name's Eric, Eric Moss." Eric politely stuck his hand out and watched as the smirk deepened but no hand was extended in response, just another exhalation of blue smoke.
"I'm Christopher Walsh. But, if it's all the same to you, I'll wait to shake until after you wash up."
"What?" Eric stared at him, his grey-green eyes clouded with confusion. What was he missing?
"And just so you know, there are rubber gloves on the back shelf. Brad thinks it's funny to hide them from us but wading elbow deep in strange DNA is not part of the job description."
"Fuck." Eric swore glumly as Christopher's initial greeting finally made sense and he looked at the suddenly suspect stains on the back seat of the vehicle. The very same back seat he had been kneeling down and scrubbing only moments before.
"Exactly." Christopher just laughed at the look on Eric's face and dropped his cigarette on the concrete floor of the garage. He ground the butt out with his booted foot, uncaring of the mess left behind. "New to the business?"
"Like it doesn't show?" Eric replied in disgust, amazed at his ignorance.
"You're smart enough to clean your ride before your first trip out, that'll help avoid some first night surprises. One of the reasons Dino didn't last was that he didn't keep his ride clean and the boss was getting too many complaints from the customers."
The slender hips shifted, pressing against the gleaming side of the limo, pulling the already close fit of the trousers even tighter and offering Eric a better view of some very nice scenery.
"What were some of the other reasons?" Eric asked, curious about his predecessor even as he convinced himself there was no harm in looking at the show playing out before him.
Christopher avoided the question, just shifted his hips once again; smiling as Eric's grey-green eyes automatically followed the motion. "Some of us go to the dive across the street when the shift's over to wind-down. Why don't you come with us?"
Eric hesitated, the young man was friendly enough, certainly a flirt, but it had been hard enough to snag this job with his background and he didn't want to do anything stupid just yet.
"Don't worry." Christopher reassured him. "I'm not asking you to go steady or anything. Just some coffee with your fellow drivers."
"Sorry." Eric looked sheepish for a moment. "Yeah, sure. That'd be fine."
The overhead intercom crackled to life and an impatient voice echoed through the garage.
"C'mon, Walsh, stop eye-fucking the new guy and get ready to roll."
Eric could only smile once again as he watched Christopher give the overhead speaker the finger before sauntering off with a wave. Realizing he had laughed more today than he had since his arrival in Las Vegas he admired the young man's slender hips as they provocatively swiveled their way out the door before heading to the back of the garage where the cleaning supplies were kept.
He was determined to find those rubber gloves and finish cleaning things up before he took the big stretch out. God, he was nervous. It was his first night driving the busy Vegas streets and he wanted everything to go smoothly.
Eric needed to keep this job. He didn't have anything or anyone to fall back on.
Just like Christopher had said there were boxes of latex gloves piled up behind an assortment of red shop cloths. Not the best hiding place but if you didn't know to look, like Eric hadn't, it was easy to miss them. He wondered about the asshole who thought it was a joke to hide them.
"You learn fast."
Eric spun around and waved his hand at the cloud of cigarette smoke that filled the air behind him. Did everyone who worked here smoke?
The man standing behind him might have been attractive beneath his covering of grease and grime; it was hard to say. He was wearing overalls so encrusted with dirt they probably could have stood up by themselves and Eric couldn't tell what color the hair was underneath the filthy bandana that covered his head.
But the eyes. Damn. What a pair of eyes. If Christopher was all warm and cozy this guy was pure ice. Eric felt immediately exposed, naked beneath the laser sharp focus of the pale blue eyes that traveled over his body.
The touch of those eyes burned.
"Hey." Eric replied. He felt awkward and fumbled for the right words. "I was just looking for these." He flapped the gloves in his hand at the other man and immediately flushed at how stupid that was. It was obvious what he had been doing.
"You the new guy?" The words were the same as Christopher's but the tone, the intonation, Hell; the very lips that shaped the words were different.
Eric couldn't ignore the pull of the other man. All of Christopher's flirting hadn't impacted him the way one glance from this man did. It was like a signal his body was trained to receive and one he had hoped never to receive again. Right now everything inside Eric was pinging madly away, begging for a chance to feel those callused hands on his bare skin, pressing on his throat, holding him down. This guy was dangerous.
Eric wanted him.
Drive Me Home by Chrissy MunderBuy Link: http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/store/product_info.php?cPath=55_128&products_id=993
Like Reviews? Click here
Summary: Las Vegas isn't just a glamorous, glitzy playground for high rollers, Elvis impersonators, and blushing newlyweds. It's also a seedy, worn-out dumping ground for the lonely, the broken, and the lost. Eric Moss is one of those drifters, just marking time, until he meets two very different men, both of whom could change his life.
Marc Evans is a rich casino owner. He offers Eric safety, security, and a chance to regain some of his ravaged past. Brad Torres is a garage mechanic. He offers Eric nothing at all.
The choice might have been easy, if Eric weren't intensely attracted to both men. He has to choose between Sin City's sparkling lights and a life in the shadows—will he be able to live with his heart's decision?
Excerpt:
"The come stains are the worst, you know."
The voice came from behind a startled Eric. He instinctively tried to stand up, only to wince, rubbing his head where he hit it against the top of the limo's unforgiving metal doorframe.
"Yeah." The voice continued. "I hate them worse than puke. Come stains always mean somebody had a much better time than I did."
Eric managed to stand up without further damage and turned to face the voice. One soft brown eye winked at him and then gave him an obvious up and down the likes of which he had not experienced in years. The guy probably knew everything up to and including the length of his dick when hard with that look.
"Hey." He lightly protested the thoroughness. "Leave a guy some secrets."
"Sorry." The unrepentant smirk under the tousled dark curls didn't match the sentiment and Eric was unable to keep himself from smiling back. Even though the unknotted tie was in danger of sliding off one shoulder the black pants, vest and white shirt immediately identified the newcomer as a fellow driver.
There were six of the stretch limousines parked in the big open bay of Discreet Limousine's garage complex. Eric had seen a couple of the other drivers in passing when he showed up early for his new job, his intent to familiarize himself before the start of his shift. This dark haired beauty hadn't been one of them.
"You the new guy?" Long eyelashes fanned down over the sideways glance as the newcomer inhaled on his cigarette. The wisps of smoke curled up as he pursed his lips slightly on the exhalation. Oh yeah, Eric thought. Definitely a real charmer.
"Yeah, that would be me. Name's Eric, Eric Moss." Eric politely stuck his hand out and watched as the smirk deepened but no hand was extended in response, just another exhalation of blue smoke.
"I'm Christopher Walsh. But, if it's all the same to you, I'll wait to shake until after you wash up."
"What?" Eric stared at him, his grey-green eyes clouded with confusion. What was he missing?
"And just so you know, there are rubber gloves on the back shelf. Brad thinks it's funny to hide them from us but wading elbow deep in strange DNA is not part of the job description."
"Fuck." Eric swore glumly as Christopher's initial greeting finally made sense and he looked at the suddenly suspect stains on the back seat of the vehicle. The very same back seat he had been kneeling down and scrubbing only moments before.
"Exactly." Christopher just laughed at the look on Eric's face and dropped his cigarette on the concrete floor of the garage. He ground the butt out with his booted foot, uncaring of the mess left behind. "New to the business?"
"Like it doesn't show?" Eric replied in disgust, amazed at his ignorance.
"You're smart enough to clean your ride before your first trip out, that'll help avoid some first night surprises. One of the reasons Dino didn't last was that he didn't keep his ride clean and the boss was getting too many complaints from the customers."
The slender hips shifted, pressing against the gleaming side of the limo, pulling the already close fit of the trousers even tighter and offering Eric a better view of some very nice scenery.
"What were some of the other reasons?" Eric asked, curious about his predecessor even as he convinced himself there was no harm in looking at the show playing out before him.
Christopher avoided the question, just shifted his hips once again; smiling as Eric's grey-green eyes automatically followed the motion. "Some of us go to the dive across the street when the shift's over to wind-down. Why don't you come with us?"
Eric hesitated, the young man was friendly enough, certainly a flirt, but it had been hard enough to snag this job with his background and he didn't want to do anything stupid just yet.
"Don't worry." Christopher reassured him. "I'm not asking you to go steady or anything. Just some coffee with your fellow drivers."
"Sorry." Eric looked sheepish for a moment. "Yeah, sure. That'd be fine."
The overhead intercom crackled to life and an impatient voice echoed through the garage.
"C'mon, Walsh, stop eye-fucking the new guy and get ready to roll."
Eric could only smile once again as he watched Christopher give the overhead speaker the finger before sauntering off with a wave. Realizing he had laughed more today than he had since his arrival in Las Vegas he admired the young man's slender hips as they provocatively swiveled their way out the door before heading to the back of the garage where the cleaning supplies were kept.
He was determined to find those rubber gloves and finish cleaning things up before he took the big stretch out. God, he was nervous. It was his first night driving the busy Vegas streets and he wanted everything to go smoothly.
Eric needed to keep this job. He didn't have anything or anyone to fall back on.
Just like Christopher had said there were boxes of latex gloves piled up behind an assortment of red shop cloths. Not the best hiding place but if you didn't know to look, like Eric hadn't, it was easy to miss them. He wondered about the asshole who thought it was a joke to hide them.
"You learn fast."
Eric spun around and waved his hand at the cloud of cigarette smoke that filled the air behind him. Did everyone who worked here smoke?
The man standing behind him might have been attractive beneath his covering of grease and grime; it was hard to say. He was wearing overalls so encrusted with dirt they probably could have stood up by themselves and Eric couldn't tell what color the hair was underneath the filthy bandana that covered his head.
But the eyes. Damn. What a pair of eyes. If Christopher was all warm and cozy this guy was pure ice. Eric felt immediately exposed, naked beneath the laser sharp focus of the pale blue eyes that traveled over his body.
The touch of those eyes burned.
"Hey." Eric replied. He felt awkward and fumbled for the right words. "I was just looking for these." He flapped the gloves in his hand at the other man and immediately flushed at how stupid that was. It was obvious what he had been doing.
"You the new guy?" The words were the same as Christopher's but the tone, the intonation, Hell; the very lips that shaped the words were different.
Eric couldn't ignore the pull of the other man. All of Christopher's flirting hadn't impacted him the way one glance from this man did. It was like a signal his body was trained to receive and one he had hoped never to receive again. Right now everything inside Eric was pinging madly away, begging for a chance to feel those callused hands on his bare skin, pressing on his throat, holding him down. This guy was dangerous.
Eric wanted him.
January 4, 2011
GLSEN Presents No-Name Calling Week Jan 24th-28th
GLSEN, the Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network, Simon and Schuster Children's Publishing and the nearly 50 partners in the No Name-Calling Week Coalition are pleased to announce the dates for the eighth annual No Name-Calling Week, Jan. 24-28, 2011.
Aimed at middle and elementary schools, with additional lesson plans for high schools, No Name-Calling Week is an annual week of educational activities aimed at ending name-calling of all kinds and providing schools with the tools and inspiration to launch an on-going dialogue about ways to eliminate bullying in their communities.
For more info visit their site here at: .
Aimed at middle and elementary schools, with additional lesson plans for high schools, No Name-Calling Week is an annual week of educational activities aimed at ending name-calling of all kinds and providing schools with the tools and inspiration to launch an on-going dialogue about ways to eliminate bullying in their communities.
For more info visit their site here at: .
New Release - Wishing on a Blue Star Available January 25th
A Special Project by Dreamspinner Press & ManLoveRomance Press. Edited by Kris Jacen.
How much impact can someone have on your life if you've never met them face to face?
In this electronic age of E-mails, electronic publishing, and social networks, quite a lot.
Through his emails, stories and blog, author Patric Michael has touched numerous hearts, minds and lives from the start of his career and further as he now takes us along on his journey to battle cancer.
Along the way, Patric shows us a side of life that not many truly see -- how we are all a part of something larger than just ourselves, and how we are each touched by others for the betterment of all.
Now, those that have been touched by Patric and his words have joined together to give something back, to him and to us all through something he values highly – words.
In this compilation, short stories, poems, and anecdotes combined with excerpts from Patric's blog and a few entertaining, educational group posts reveal, and celebrate, the man who has touched so many hearts and minds.
This collection is a gift from all our hearts to celebrate Patric and give strength (and a little levity) to others. The price reflects this; no one is receiving royalties or payment from the sales. Use it to celebrate life, celebrate words, and possibly inspire someone who needs it.
I am truly proud and honored to have been a small part of this anthology. There's an amazing assortment of authors and stories ahead for the reader. And, of course, plenty of Patric himself.
How much impact can someone have on your life if you've never met them face to face?In this electronic age of E-mails, electronic publishing, and social networks, quite a lot.
Through his emails, stories and blog, author Patric Michael has touched numerous hearts, minds and lives from the start of his career and further as he now takes us along on his journey to battle cancer.
Along the way, Patric shows us a side of life that not many truly see -- how we are all a part of something larger than just ourselves, and how we are each touched by others for the betterment of all.
Now, those that have been touched by Patric and his words have joined together to give something back, to him and to us all through something he values highly – words.
In this compilation, short stories, poems, and anecdotes combined with excerpts from Patric's blog and a few entertaining, educational group posts reveal, and celebrate, the man who has touched so many hearts and minds.
This collection is a gift from all our hearts to celebrate Patric and give strength (and a little levity) to others. The price reflects this; no one is receiving royalties or payment from the sales. Use it to celebrate life, celebrate words, and possibly inspire someone who needs it.
I am truly proud and honored to have been a small part of this anthology. There's an amazing assortment of authors and stories ahead for the reader. And, of course, plenty of Patric himself.
January 2, 2011
The name's Munder, Chrissy Munder...
I'm still laughing over here - Clare comes up with the best titles for my ramblings. Time for you to ramble over to my blog post in honor of her January Birthday month. Meanwhile I'll pour another cup of coffee with cream - shaken, not stirred.
Hmmm, rather lacked in the translation. Ah well, *pokes* go read and then comment to let me know who is your favorite Bond villain.
Hmmm, rather lacked in the translation. Ah well, *pokes* go read and then comment to let me know who is your favorite Bond villain.
January 1, 2011
And so the new year begins...
...and I'm knocking things off my to-do list as we type and read.
Top of today's list was early morning coffee while watching the chippies and chubbies (otherwise known as squirrels and finches) on the back deck. With the lovely, moderate temps and newly melted away snow we were almost convinced it was a spring day. Yes, we went running around outside without coats just because we could.
Next up was a worshipful pause in admiration for the way C-A-T-S have managed to domesticate H-U-M-A-N-S. Just think about it. (Note: typed out as the fat boy is on my lap and he's a smart fellow).
Getting ready to start the rounds of blog and website updates. Get ready for a bit of dust. Hopefully nothing too inconvenient.
Catch me tomorrow over at Chez London as I make my annual, January 2nd blog post for Clare London's Birthday Blog Month. Today the lovely Layla is sharing her artwork with us - make sure to stop by throughout the month, the blogger list looks quite fun.
I hope you all enjoyed a safe and happy start to 2011.
Top of today's list was early morning coffee while watching the chippies and chubbies (otherwise known as squirrels and finches) on the back deck. With the lovely, moderate temps and newly melted away snow we were almost convinced it was a spring day. Yes, we went running around outside without coats just because we could.
Next up was a worshipful pause in admiration for the way C-A-T-S have managed to domesticate H-U-M-A-N-S. Just think about it. (Note: typed out as the fat boy is on my lap and he's a smart fellow).
Getting ready to start the rounds of blog and website updates. Get ready for a bit of dust. Hopefully nothing too inconvenient.
Catch me tomorrow over at Chez London as I make my annual, January 2nd blog post for Clare London's Birthday Blog Month. Today the lovely Layla is sharing her artwork with us - make sure to stop by throughout the month, the blogger list looks quite fun.
I hope you all enjoyed a safe and happy start to 2011.
