Amy Lane's Blog: Writer's Lane, page 86

New Hobbies

Okay-- so a big weekend--and not just because Tart and Sweet came out Monday, either!

Yesterday, I said goodbye to the cockroach of cell phones after a long and bitter struggle.

See, when I first got a smart phone, I went for the Microsoft phone, because I totally got the platform and the organization.

I just understood how that thing worked, immediately--and that doesn't always happen to me and electronics.  I used to equate iPhone users and Microsoft users to classic essay outliners and bubble-outliners--it's just a different way to organize your thinking.

I still believe that--but what I didn't count on was the people who manufactured the Microsoft platform bailing on their products like the stinking cowards they are.

The phones that came out were more and more unsupportive of their technology--finding a universal app in a Microsoft format was more and more difficult. My phone refused to upload it, and if it DID upload an app, the platform--which was the whole reason I got the damned phone--managed to make it completely unusable.

And the damned thing kept forgetting where it put its data.

Like, it would claim it had no room, but that's because it's OS took up too much room for it to remember to store shit on the SD card.

And damn-- the thing wouldn't break. I lost track of the times I dropped it, had it pop out of the case, land on the ground, have the BATTERY pop out of the phone, while I stepped on the whole assemblage. No, not on purpose-- I am that clumsy. And then, you pick it up, you put it all together, and BAM. It works exactly as shitty as it did before it got stepped on--but not a tiny bit shittier.

So I caved.

I got an iPhone.

I'm one of the masses.

I'm a convert. *strokes iPhone* I would change my brain waves for you, precious. I shall attempt to outline in bubble format. I may even learn a new language. *strokes more* Oh my God... I'm suddenly attracted to Pokemon Go like it's a hot guy with a boner.

So,   we did that!

And today, we went bowling.

Now I started out a disaster at this.

Not even kidding. My arthritic knee and hip were giving me grief and I just walked up very very careful of my fat and aging bod.

And then... at the beginning of the second game... it happened.

I remembered something that pissed me off.

I try not to get too negative on the internet-- I used to be a fan of the outrage machine, but in the past years, I've begun to see that the jizz-wank mechanism of getting off on anger is just really destructive. (In fact, I sort of blame it for the mess of our politics--but that's another blog post.) So, not as much raging on the internet--a long, dedicated period of trying very hard not to be a mad scotswoman with an axe.

But where does all the rage go? The temper is still there, and even if the intellect tells the passion that it is wrong, that does not mean the passion can simply extinguish without snuffing out the joy as well? The rage has to go SOMEWHERE--knitting, hatesex in a book (but I'm not writing any right now), housecleaning (HAHAHAHAHAHA)  but, you know, SOMEWHERE.

Oh, my children. I have discovered a wondrous thing.

I have discovered bowling.

I walked up to lay down that ten pound ball (because I'm not that strong and I don't want to poing anything that shouldn't be poinged) and suddenly, I was remembering that one jerk from the internet and POW.  I was throwing a ten pound ball at HIS HEAD. And then I was making an argument against my least favorite politician, and BAM. Smashed into Cheetoh dust. And then I was pissed at -- well, you name it. My oncoming birthday, the state of my finances, global warming, the price of dog antibiotics, the asshole colleague who routinely humiliated me in the staffroom seven years ago--and I had the name of that stressor pasted on a bowling pin in my mind.

And then I smashed its face in with a bowling ball.

It was *pause for dramatic ecstatic shudder* WONDERFUL.

I walked away from those two games of bowling a little bit sore and a little bit tired and a LOT relaxed.

So there you go. Two things I never thought I'd embrace-- the iPhone and bowling.

I'm not quick on the draw, but gees am I excited when I shoot!

Kermit Flail-- A quiet yet awesome September!

So we've got a slightly subdued YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY as we head into fall, but still a pretty exciting show today folks.

I have to admit--I've been preoccupied with the dog and the kids and the finishing the sooper sekrit urban fantasy project this month, so I didn't drum up as much FLAIL as I usually do--but the ladies who joined us today are AWESOME, and they more than make up for the modesty of the assembly.

Also--and this never happens--I have Kermit Flail on a release day, so that's pretty special too!

Shall we begin?

Now the first thing up isn't a book-- it's a writer's convention-- and that's pretty damned awesome!

My friend, Rayna Vause, puts on the Liberty States writers convention for the past several years, and this year looks amazing. Lots of people I know and adore-- Damon Suede, Tere Michaels, Laquette-- will be there teaching classes, as will some awesome people that I've heard of but do not yet have the pleasure of knowing.

This is a great little convention for someone who wants some one on one with writers and a chance to really get to know the people they've heard so much about. Do check it out!

CONVENTION INFO HERE

And since we're talking conventions, I should probably mention something else! Myself, Kim Fielding, Venona Keys, Shira Anderson, Mary Calmes, Poppy Denison and a whole bunch of other people are going to be at YAOI-CON in two weeks. The Dreamspinner booth promises to be just full up with awesome writers, and for everybody on the west coast who doesn't usually get a chance to visit, this is it! Come see us, chat, get signed books and swag, and generally enjoy yourselves!

Oh-- and don't forget to look at the awesome cosplaying kids, because they're my favorite part!

So there we go-- that's exciting and we haven't even gotten to the books yet!

That being said, our first book is actually an audiobook from Kim Fielding (who's going to be at Yaoi-Con, remember?) Now, the cool thing about this book--besides the fact that it's urban fantasy, and it's Kim, and I love her urban fantasy--is that it's one of her self-published books, and Kim gives ALL of her proceeds from her self-pubbed audiobooks to Doctors Without Borders, which is one of my all-time favorite charities.

So let's give a HUGE shoutout to Kim Fielding and Guarded-- YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAAYAYAY! ALSO, it's narrated by Greg Tremblay, who's amazing. And here we go with another YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAAYAY!!!!!




Guarded--audio-book

by Kim Fielding, narrated by Greg Tremblay


A brutal war left Volos Perun with physical and emotional scars and with a reputation as a hero. Now he's a soldier stationed at the palace, desiring Prince Berhanu while receiving only loathing in return. But when Berhanu foolishly refuses the king's request to let Volos accompany him on a peace mission to the neighboring country, Berhanu is kidnapped and brutalized. Now Volos must risk his life as he works to save Berhanu and help his country avoid another devastating war.

BUY HERE


Next, we have Kaje Harper, who's stunning covers for this series has caught me breathless. Kaje is one of my favorite writers in this genre, so having her on board this month's flail is a real treat. Everybody welcome Kaje Harper with her newest installment in the Trace Finders series-- YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!





Tracefinder: Changes
By Kaje Harper
Brian can Find a lost child or a wanted criminal, but when his secret gets out, even Nick’s skills and connections may not be enough to keep them safe.

Brian Kerr is now free of his dangerous boss and his domineering brother. He’s eager to start using his psychic Finding talent to help people, if he can figure out how to do that safely. His dyslexia, and his tendency to act simpleminded under stress, make building his new life a daunting challenge. And while his not-quite-boyfriend, Nick, is willing to support him, in bed and out of it, Brian doesn’t want to lean on Nick. If their relationship is going anywhere, he has to be a full partner and handle his own problems.

Nick Rugo’s walking a tightrope instead of settling into the ordinary cop’s life he’d hoped for. He’s hiding too many things from too many people. He has told professional and unprofessional lies that will come back to haunt him. Now, with Brian determined to start Finding again, he’s not sure he can protect the man he cares for. If all that wasn’t enough to make him start punching walls, he also has a suspicion that Brian’s brother Damon and sister Lori may be out there, lurking, ready to complicate their lives.

Buy Links:


Amazon
ARe
Smashwords
B&N



And last--but hopefully not least-- we have Tart and Sweet, the final Candy Man offering from yours truly. Now some of you may have seen my guest post on Alpha Book Club about the Candy Man books and how they started. If you haven't, by all means, go check it out, because I got to go back in time and talk about meeting the real Darrin and talk about how he became the Candy Man. I'm sorry to see this series end--but I'm so grateful for how much people have loved it. I hope you all like this final story--I think you'll find it brings the series full circle. And by all means, enjoy these pictures (also found on the Alpha Book Club site) which my family and I took with Darrin when we went to give him the last book.
He's an awesome person--and his business is a wonderful addition to my hometown. I'm so grateful to have met him!  And if you do stop by Candy Heaven--by all means, mention my name!
So ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, let's hear it for Tart and Sweet-- the last book of the Candy Man series, and the final book of this September's Kermit Flail-- YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!




Tart and Sweet-- A Candy Man Book 
by Amy Lane

In the Army, Robbie Chambers turned on his lover out of fear—and he hasn’t been able to live with himself since. Now he’s out of the Army but still trapped in the closet that brought on his most cowardly moment, and he starts to think he’ll never be able to fight his way free.

Until he sees Cy McVeigh. Beautiful and uninhibited, Cy is dancing on the boardwalk at Old Sac for no other reason than the moment called for it. Robbie not only joins in the dance but is smitten from the very beginning.

However, Robbie still has old business to clear up, and when he helps out a kid in need and comes face-to-face with the man he betrayed, he’s forced to come clean with himself. He can’t redeem his mistake if he’s still locked into his old patterns, and he won’t ever be worthy of Cy if he can’t earn Adam’s forgiveness. He’s going to need all the help he can get from the people at Candy Heaven in order to make things right with his past so he can have a future with Cy.

Buy at ARe

Buy at DSP

Buy at Amazon

Well-Behaved Kids

My children are well behaved.

I'm not sure why.  I mean, I sort of know why--and it has nothing to do with them living in hunched and quivering balls of fear/respect/hatred of our authority.

They're well behaved because authority has been kind to them, and because it's encouraged them to think for themselves, and because their parents and teachers have, for the most part, treated them as a valued member of the team.

This doesn't mean they're perfect. ZoomBoy is still a little spaz, and he and I spaz out at each other frequently because ADHD comes with a hair trigger temper, and when we're tired, squashing that thing down isn't always easy. But we work on it--both of us. We both practice taking big deep breaths, and at not taking out our confusion or unique thinking on the whole rest of the world. I've tried very hard to teach him to ask for help while respecting the limits of his teachers and classmates. It's a fine line--he works on it every day.

But even the teacher who had the worst problems with him was quick to point out that he was kind to his fellow students. She used to put the kids with the behavior problems next to him, because if they couldn't get along with ZoomBoy, they needed to sit by themselves. The worst he ever responded was by using a pencil eraser and very gently pushing the kid's hands on the other side of the tape that marked the line between them.

In a well-behaved kid, a misbehavior is usually a big red flag. Something is wrong. Usually NOT with them. Usually, it's with something else in their environment.

If a well-behaved kid tells you they disagree with an adult, you can talk about how to deal with that disagreement. You can give them tips with how to negotiate the adult world, even though they are short and young and don't have any power, really.

Well-behaved kids are often the ones who change a class's culture, or a school's, or a community.

A classroom teacher listens to the well-behaved kid. If another teacher rubs the kid the wrong way, or if a situation bothers this child, or if social injustice begins to matter (it's always nice when this happens) it is the well-behaved kid who can stage the meaningful change in the environment.

Thinking back about teaching, it was the well-behaved kids who gave us the direction to start needed clubs like the GSA or the Spanish Club or Matheletes. I ran the Creative Writing club because several well-behaved kids approached me and assured me that they could deal with the paperwork, because I was not great at it.

These kids were not always the straight-A students. They were not always the athletes. They weren't always quiet in class when we asked.

But they were respectful when they spoke to us. They apologized when we pointed out they'd been rude. They recognized that we were doing the best we could for them, and that they could help us out by being respectful when we tried to do that.  Although they were quick to point out when we erred, they were also quick to accept our own apologies when we gave them.

I know we need to work with compassion and creativity to engage the kids who have chronic behavior problems--that is teaching and that is life. Acting out has a cause--and sometimes we can access it and fix it, and sometimes we are not that kid's hero because that door was closed to us long ago. But the chronic behavior problems get lots of attention--ask any kid in a classroom full of them. That's what they're there for, that's why they are doing it.There are a thousand different reasons, a thousand different essays to write about difficult kids, and this is not their story.

This is the story of the well-behaved kid. It's unfortunately easy to disregard the well-behaved kid as a suck-up, or someone whipped by the system--to equate "well behaved" with "obedient"--but I just wrote a guest blog about the "good boy hero", and I'll say now what I said then.

A good boy or girl--i.e., a well-behaved kid-- knows the difference between what is right and what is correct. The well-behaved kid will stand up quietly and insist on doing what's right, because what is correct is clearly morally wrong. The well-behaved kid wants to change the system, not demolish it. He or she wants to draw attention to injustice or a problem--not to their own issues.  He or she doesn't want to be rude, or shrill, or mean.

The well behaved kid is humble, thoughtful, and level-headed.

A well-behaved kid isn't a victim. He isn't isn't a puppet. He isn't a fool.

He's not a grandstander (but he can be a ham), and he isn't cruel, and he's not a tool.

He isn't entitled. In fact the well-behaved kid is sort of the opposite of the entitled kid. Entitled kids expect their tantrums and their bullying and their snideness and their outrage to get the positive response that the well-behaved kid can sometimes garner with a humble request.

Captain America is the quintessential well-behaved kid.

Ghandi was a very well-behaved kid.

Suffragettes were (for the most part) extremely well-behaved--when they weren't breaking the law by insisting on their rights.

Colin Kaepernik is a well-behaved kid.  He is asking, in a humble, meaningful way, for the nation to look at change. He doesn't want the attention for himself--he wants the attention to improve upon a longstanding flaw in his world.

I was not always a well-behaved kid. As I grow older, I hope someday, I can be.

I'm glad I've got some role models to look at as I grow.

Medication Time!

Thanks to everyone who hoped for Geoffie's improvement. She is doing better--but medication time is a real drag.
The thing is-- the dog has three different things. (It's supposed to be four--I didn't get the fourth one yet, because busy!)
Now, I thought I had this medication thing down. I'd inject some of Geoffie's high-calorie food with one of the meds, smear it on a slice of ham and roll it up like a little ham burrito. The first time, it worked great! The second time, also good.
The third time, Geoffie was a little wary-- had to work on her eating the ham.  
Tonight, she wanted nothing to do with the high-calorie food. Turned her nose up, refused to admit it was there.  The funny thing was, Johnny was losing his shit.   See, I'd given Johnny a big dollop of the food in his own kibble, just to make it seem fair. 
And Gordie, our perpetually starving gray cat, bullied the dog out of the way and finished the food off. 
So Johnnie wanted his special treat, Geoffie DIDN'T want her special treat, and Gordie was like, "Fuck it, I'll eat everybody's special treat, get out of my fucking way!"
And then Gordie crapped on the dog bed, just to show he's a badass pussy, and not to fuck with him.
*headdesk*
Tune in tomorrow where we see if I can figure out another way to dose the damned dog.

Do Not Adjust Your Screen-- Those Are NOT Tribbles

 So I missed a blog yesterday-- but it was for good reason.

I think I said last week that poor Geoffie's eyes were very hamburgerish when I got home from Kansas City. I took her in and we were given allergy medicine but it didn't work that well--and her eyes went completely opaque under the crust.

When I brought her in for her recheck, she'd lost weight, and she was listless--poor baby did NOT feel good. Her lymph nodes were swollen and the corona of her eyes had filled with serum: she was temporarily (we hope) blind.

So I plunked down a crapton of money for tests and antibiotics. We're still waiting on the tests, but she's eating and responding to the antibiotics (which is good, because the $200 a day fee for the IV fluids was not exciting to any of us.

Anyway-- this morning, she was feeling a little better and I took her and Johnny for their walk. I ran into my neighbor, and we started talking about the neighborhood in general. Recently a big ten acre tract of poison oak and regular oak had been cleared not far from our houses. Many homeless lived there (we could smell them cooking turkey over open fires when it got cold.)  We were talking about where they had relocated (it's a smallish neighborhood- we worry) and then we talked about rats.

A fuckton of rats had been displaced by the new development--we knew the dogs and the cats had been actually earning their keep, keeping the vermin from our doorstep.

And I wondered if THAT'S what had made Geoffie sick.

They've been talking about tick borne diseases (but we have no grass) and possibly cancer (scary word--but it popped up so fast, and the eyes are sort of a surprising side effect) and I'm wondering-- is this a bacterial infection caused by a rat bite?

I called the vet and told her to look out for that--but I'm sort of hoping, because it gives us a thing we can fight.

But when I was in the vets' office, worried and tired and feeling like crap, the two sentient tribbles walked into the office.

Their names are Butch and Sundance.

I almost died of the cute.

And I thought I'd share :-)

And in the meantime, Geoffie and Mate and I have a standing, twice a day date with two medications and eye drops. *sigh* It's gotta be more than cute.

I think it's love.

Knitting Saves the World!

Not much to talk about today--it's been mostly in my head.

Seriously--Mondays are pretty busy. Drop Squish off, take dogs for a walk, work/communicate for a few hours, go to aqua, get lunch, pick kids up.  Today we stopped at Staples on the way home, just for a change of pace, and then home, work, a quick nap, make dinner, and, hey, today was a luxury, Mate got home to watch TV!

But I did have a friend ask me to make her niece a chemo cap--and that was fun, because yarn, but also because specialized yarn, something really soft, and hopefully machine washable, and perfect for a little girl.

I'm going to use the excuse to go shopping with Babetta--yay!

And another friend asked me about cables, and I got to send her one of my favorite patterns.

So, seriously. Would have been the most boring day--but knitting!

I'd say who knew, but, let's face it--I've been saying it for years ;-)

Oh-- and we also got to see what a 5 lb. bar of chocolate looked like. ZoomBoy was so excited he put the outside wrapper on his wall.

And I had the following texting conversation with someone who shall remain nameless:

Nameless: I'm sick. I think my cat gave me worms.

Me: I don't think you can get worms from your cat.

Nameless: I can too.

Me: No, I really don't think it's that easy. *looks up internet true fax*

Nameless: I've been sick for a month.

Me: No-- look. It says it's really hard. Unless you've been rimming your cat while you sleep, I think your allergies just turned into walking pneumonia!

Nameless: Well, that could have happened too.

Me: GO TO THE DOCTOR TOMORROW!

Nameless: Fine. They at least can tell me if it's worms.

And that's all, folks!

A Big Weekend!

 Okay-- so yesterday was opening day, and this always means exhaustion and sort of a slow Sunday.

But Tart and Sweet is out on September 5th, and I got my paperback copies this week, and that means it was time to go see Darrin!

Darrin was thrilled to see us-- and I gave him copies of Fish Out of Water and Winter Ball, mostly so I would have an excuse to go see him now that the series based on his store is over. (I want to give I'm the sequels, natch ;-)

And I took a lot more pictures than this--but I just sent a pretty lengthy post to Alpha Book Club, and wanted to give them an exclusive content crack at those pictures, because Jaime was so nice about asking.

But these are two good ones-- and I think they give you a great impression of both Darrin and his beloved store. He's awesome. Alas, he doesn't read your pictures in Pixy Stix powder, but he is an awfully nice guy, and his employees are always kind.

You may notice my family in the background? See that bucket Squish is holding? Yup-- finally he succeeded in getting me to take a full bucket of candy. In this case, he dumped the bucket into the plastic bag, and then the plastic bag into the bucket, and then realized the bag wasn't coming out of the bucket so we got that too.

Zoomboy is holding a giant chocolate bar.

Because.

So while I'm sad that the series is ending, I'm happy that Darrin's still going to be happy to see me. I sure have enjoyed being a tiny part of Candy Heaven for the last two years.

Now about opening day--

Well, I've been doing it for fourteen years, and the little kids have been dragged to it, one way or another, since they were born. (ZoomBoy was born on Saturday morning in November. His father left the hospital, took Chicken to her soccer game, then to a slumber party, then took Big T to a movie, and then went home and had himself a nice little coma.)  But some days stand out more than others.

The days that were 105+, we all seem to remember, because everybody came home in a coma.

The days we had three different kids to watch on three different teams were also fun.

This year was different because Mate-- president of the club, remember-- was not actually present at opening day. In this case, the league put out the schedule for Mate's seeding tournament about a month after the soccer club had started planning opening day. So Mate helped plan a lot of it, and then he didn't get to go to any of it.

Squish and I did though. But I missed Squish's first game.

The story goes like this:

Mate had me volunteer to supervise at the bounce houses-- the obstacle course, to be precise. Squish's first game started at 10, and my shift was from 9:00--9:30, so, easy to do, right?

Well, the parade and presentation didn't end until 9:15, so I got to the house around 9:20, not expecting any kids to be on the house, because hello parade, where all the kids were supposed to BE, right?

Wrong.

there were about fifty kids, all over the damned bounce house, and they were going to kill each other if someone didn't get a handle on things.

So I did. "You--go through. You guys up there, slide immediately. No, don't wait for your friend, get down, go through, get out. It's an obstacle course not a mosh pit. Wait for the little kid to get out of the way. You, hurry. You, slide. Did I not say hurry? Get out of the house or I'll get your father. Yes, I know who he is. I don't care if he's here. Move it!"  And so on.

I had the second part of the course fairly smooth and I went to the beginning and realized a random mother had started evening out the incoming as I was evening out the outgoing.

Aces.

I got her name--and hopefully her team got credit for helping, because that's one of the reasons you volunteer, is to get a certain amount of credit for your team, and when she had to leave, I was stuck. I mean, nobody came to help out. And I couldn't just walk away-- kids were all over this thing. They were just asking for a kid to get hurt, and I'm not wired that way.

But after the first half-hour, all of that crisp military precision I started out with started to leak away. I became shrill and terrible, and I'm a little bit proud of this.

"You! Yes you! You can't sneak into the side. No you can't. You need to go wait in line like everyone else. You don't wanna? What do you mean you don't wanna? Where's your father? Your father's not here. Where's your mother? Your mother's not here? THEN GET OFF THE FIELD. NOW. YOU DON'T BELONG HERE. Oh, your Auntie is right over there? Let me just talk to her about what you've been doing here, give me just a second."

I lucked out. Auntie was RIGHT behind the bounce house, watching someone's game, and she got an earful.

I went back, and my reputation had spread.

When I said, "You need to clear out of this end or I will get your parent," those kids BELIEVED!" I mean, I wasn't nice, they hated and feared me, but by god they did not jump on top of each other when they came swishing down the slide, did they? They didn't camp out at the end, waiting to get walked on and hurt, did they? Oh no. I may have been the bitter bounce house bitch, but I was the EFFECTIVE bitter bounce house bitch, and I didn't let them forget it.

Of course being this horrible for two hours sucked all the joy out of it for me.

That's how long I went, and then another parent--from our team--walked up to me and said, "You know, what you really need is one person on each end. I did this last year. I just climbed up top and sat there. It was easy."

Okay-- for the record? This guy is about 5'6 and 140 lbs. He COULD climb up top and monitor from the top. I could not.

"Do you want to do it?" I asked, near tears.

"Sure! Just make sure our team gets lots of credit!"

Oh I did. I did indeed.

I got to the field in time for Squish's next game (and so did he, which was good, because watching the kids is kind of the point).  They lost, and then we cleared out of there quick to bring food to Mate and Zoomboy, who had two more games of their seeding tournament to go.

We got home and everybody fell asleep around nine.

Except me--I start work when everyone goes to bed.

But I"m not going to forget being the bitter bounce house bitch.

I was starting to miss teaching--sincerely. I love talking about literature, I love teenagers, I love the whole dynamic.

But thanks to two hours at the bounce house, I also remember why I was so excited to leave!

Scorched Haven, Part 11: Some things are nonnegotiable

 If you haven't read 1-10 of this serial, you can find the other pieces here:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
So, to my immense excitement, Rampant, Volume 1 and Rampant, Volume 2 are now available for pre-order from DSPP!

This is the fourth book of the Little Goddess, and the one with the big cliffhanger that has been waiting, omg, seven years! to finish up. So, Rampant means Quickening is coming out next year, after Jack & Teague, and that means I'm SO EXCITED.

Anyway, to celebrate, (and to answer a certain young lady on Twitter who never misses a blog, bless her!) I decided I needed to get back to Scorched Haven today.

Tomorrow? You'll get soccer opening day. Today? You'll get Zeb and Colton, hauling ass through Turlock.  (Heh heh-- Kim Fielding, you are so welcome.)

*  *  *


They burst through the guard rail, missing an oncoming car by a fraction and joining traffic with a few wobbles of the wheel.

"Wow," Zeb muttered, stunned.

"You just did that!" Colton sounded so excited for him-- Zeb hated to break it to him.

"I did jack-- I'm not sure what Green's people did to the damned car, but it's like driving a magic carpet."  Zeb accelerated about 5 mpg, and then grinned. The despair of his morning revelation forgotten, he felt the thrill of speed and a new toy thrum through his bloodstream. "How many miles to Sacramento?"

Colton glanced at a road sign just as they passed. "Says 120. Why?"

"Well, 120 plus forty to Auburn and Foresthill-- I'd say we're three hours from home."  And like that, the sweetness of having Green's Hill sank into his chest. "I'd love for you to see home."  The gardens, the shapeshifter's common room, the fey and the vampires wandering through in their time.

The care from the people he served.

The worry for his wellbeing.

Suddenly he had something to give Colton. It wasn't his per se, but he still--it was part of the world he'd opened up with the bite. It was a good place. Zeb found a tiny sliver of pride.

"Where will we stay there?"

Zeb swallowed. "Well, there's usually spare rooms." He cut around an old Jeep going criminally slow. He couldn't see any lights in his rearview, but he figured the further up the road he got the less likely it would happen.  "Teague and his family just moved into an outbuilding-- that frees up a suite and another room, because Katy kept her room when Jack and Teague got together."  And speed up, because he could, and swerve around a Toyota with a girl rocking out behind the wheel. She didn't even notice him. "So, probably Katy's room. Some of the darkling rooms are free-- Kyle is keeping Adrian's room, but I got the feeling Ellis was moving out of his, and Leah is joining the Avians out at the aerie--"

"Jesus!" Colton half laughed.

"What?"  Zeb cut in front of a red Kia and gunned it into the great yawing gap between car clots.

"It's a good thing we heal, because damn, you drive like your head's on fire and your ass it was catching!  And that's a lot of fucking people-- how big is this house?"

Oh. "I want to get home," he said, like that wasn't plenty clear enough. "And don't think of it like a house. Think of it like a college-- a small one, but a college. Because there's lots of common areas and everybody eats in the same five places, and you have to report to a higher authority-- a couple of them--but mostly there's a lot of people minding their own business and fucking around when they can get a free space."

For the first time, Colton frowned uncertainly. "Can we go to college for real?"

Zeb felt another bolt of relief. "Definitely. No worries. If we go on the Little Goddess days, though, we're expected to help with the detail--"

"The detail?"  Confusion. Well, understandable.

"See, Cory-- she doesn't go alone. Ever. It's a rule."

"Why? Is she afraid of--"

Zeb scowled, remembering the times she'd led people into battle. The herb wash they used on iron and cold steel and silver to protect the creatures that were allergic to those metals had a very distinctive smell. Zeb remembered that smell from the night Adrian died, and he avoided the hell out of the common room when it permeated the hill forever after. Zeb wasn't a warrior. He never would be. Rescuing Colton was about the bravest thing he'd ever done, and most of that was running.

"Nothing," he said shortly. "She's afraid of nothing.  But she's important-- she can lead a troop elves, vampires, and werewolves into battle without blinking an eye, but when she's forced to play by human rules, she's really vulnerable. She's getting like multiple degrees to help Green run the hill--but it means she has to go to school, and that means a security detail-- several of them. If you're going on one of her days, you may have to take a class with her, or be scheduled to be in the quad at the same time she is--they don't let her see nearly the number of people who are watching her.  But we'd be expected to be that."

Colton grunted. "So... like this is a tiny island? Like a country within a country?"

Oh yes! He understood!  "Yes," Zeb said soberly. "And with these werewolves--and all this bad fuckin' blood, her country's under siege."  Hell. "This is what I"ve brought you into, Colton. I've been trying to tell you. I mean--the hill will probably be safe, but there's tough times ahead."

To his surprise, Colton grinned. "That's just fine," he said. "In fact, you know? That's better than fine. That's like... that's a cause. That's why people join the military right out of school. They want to do for something bigger than them. You saved my life, this guy Green's saving my bacon, the girl sounds like she's okay--"

"Stop it right there."  Oh, he had to fix this. "The girl isn't just 'okay'. The girl is a fucking warrior. She's... she's bad ass. She's killed more people than lived in your pissant little town. You don't get to go to Green's if you don't respect the Lady Cory."

"Oh."

Zeb grunted. He saw lights, far behind them, and he stepped on the gas some more and kept up the bob and weave. the speedometer said 105, but it didn't feel fast enough. "Oh what?" he asked between gritted teeth.

"I just... I mean, I  know you said there was a leadership thing--that there were three of them. I just really thought the two guys would have been leading mostly. I never thought woman in charge."

"Well you better get your brain around it right quick, because we do not want Bracken leading. That's her other lover. Teague's our alpha--but he looks to Lady Cory. The vampires are stronger than us in almost every way. And she leads them. Green's the leader of the hill--but he lives and breathes her safety. You don't blow her off, you don't ignore her, you don't interrupt her when she's speaking. You bow low and deep and you be fucking grateful she doesn't cook you like werewolf bacon."

"So some psycho --"

"Forget you ever heard that word!" Zeb shouted, and then, going 110, he swerved the car into the guard rail and through, ignoring the ripping sound of metal because he was pretty sure it was the guard rail and not the car that was ripping.  He popped out on the frontage road barely controlled the skid.

"Jesus!" Colton was hanging onto the Oh-Shit-Bar. "You must really love this woman!"

"She's my queen, dammit! And if I bring you to the hill, she needs to be yours too! You have got to show some respect to this world, Colton-- if we survive this fucking day, it's because of these people!"

The car was running without a hitch, and Zeb made a mental note to send something special and awesome to Nibbles, who had apparently James-Bonded the car into complete indestructibility.

"Where are we?" he demanded, looking around. "I mean, there's a town nearby--this looks like old orchards, made residential. Whose guardrail did we just pop?"

"Turlock," Colton said, sounding subdued. He pulled something up on the phone Zeb had charged the night before."Turn a right and we'll run through town and then get back on the freeway.  There's a college there, and--fuck!"

Fuck was right.  Behind them in the rearview mirror, two police cars darted in quick succession. Too quick, apparently-- one of them peeled itself like a can opener and flipped out of view, but the other one was right on their ass.

"Okay," Zeb said, thinking fast. "We're going to pull into the college."

"What?"

"And steal ourselves a car."

"How in the--"

"Quick-- call Green. He's in my presets."

"Why do you--"

"Just do it, Colton! I'm trying to keep us alive, okay? I've got a very basic trick used by a particularly wily woodland bird, and I'm going to use it."

Colton hit speed dial and speaker.

"Hello, Zeb. What can I do for you?"

Zeb almost cried. "We're in a college town, Green, and we've got cop cars all over us. I want to go to the university and steal a car."

"Very tricky with the new electronic ignition, Zebulon--but as it happens, I've got an ally there. Let me just send her a text... done!"

"So, are we stealing a car?"

"No, my boy, you're borrowing one. And you're leaving her the one you're driving in it's place."

Zeb grunted. "But Green, they're looking for this one!"

"They won't be by the time they find it."  Green's voice lowered. "Trust me, Zeb. I know it's hard--but please. We want to get you both home."

Of course. "Thanks, Green.  Give me directions."

Green did.

Zeb wasn't sure what his sources were-- elves, other were creatures, friendly humans--but somehow he managed to guide the two of them through a series of shortcuts and into the campus parking area in such a way that Zeb lost their tail and he and Colton could breathe a little easier.

"Now what car am I looking for-- crap!"

"What?"

"Oh, geez," Colton muttered. "Zeb, you hit a... wait. That guy's getting up and... he's not human!"

"Some dumb jerk with a goofy little hat and a deadhead goatee jumped right in front of the car,"         Zeb snarled. God, he could see the guy getting up and self-healing in the rearview. "He must be bad werewolf or something--but jumping in front of my car when I'm going forty miles an hour--dumbest fucker on the planet."

"Mm..." Green murmured. "Yes. My contact says he's the dean of her department."  He chuckled. "She asks that you go back and run him over again, but I've assured her you don't have the time. now look for a cherry red mini with a skull and crossbones on top."

"That's the car we're going to hide in?" Zeb demanded.

"Yup. Now do you see--"

"Jesus!" Colton yelped. "God, you're terrifying."

"I'm going to miss this car," Zeb said sadly, yanking the hand brake and killing the motor. "You sure this one's good to go? Should we transfer any of our stuff into it?"

"No--just hurry up. Drive out at an average pace, and don't mind what you see when you look back. Some of Nibbles' brethren are going to be fixing Kim up a new ride for a bit, yes?"

Zeb slid behind the seat of the mini and turned the key that was set up in the ignition. "Mm... make sure it gets fixed up really good, Green. I have the feeling I'm going to like this one."

* * *

Oh, he did, and for a few miles of rather tame driving, the road-hugging suspension of the mini almost made up for Colton's thoughtful silence.

"What?" he asked after the sign announcing Sacramento in 20 miles popped into view. "Women's rights is a deal breaker?"

"No," Colton said, sounding young. "I just... I'm sorry I got defensive. And crude. You were right. I listened yesterday--but I didn't really hear. You were trying to tell me about where I was going to live, and what I needed to know to live there. I"m sorry. Lady Cory. I understand now."

That was too easy. "What do you mean, you understand now?"

"That guy on the phone--he calls his friend and we have a new car. You run over a guy, and he's got a kill order--"

"Well, if he hadn't have been a werewolf, I would have been suicidal, you know that right?"

"Yeah, I know that too. But in your world, he's going to be a werewolf. I..."  For a moment Colton faltered, and a part of Zeb howled in angry triumph. This kid wasn't strong enough. He wasn't old enough. All those promises made had been crap, and Zeb had known it all along. Then his hand, warm and intimate, rested on Zeb's bicep. "This doesn't change you and me," Colton said, voice unyielding. "It just means I need to grow up so I'm worthy of you."

"Nonnegotiable," Zeb rasped, knowing he was risking everything. "Lady Cory--respect for her-- is nonnegotiable."

"Understood," Colton said, subdued. "What do you think the traffic's going to be like in Sacramento?"

"Heinous," Zeb said glumly. "It's always fucking heinous."

But at least he and Colton were on the same page. Hope. They'd awakened that morning and Zeb had been owned, body and soul, by the kid next to him--but he hadn't had hope.

Now, he did. The miles flew by under the mini. They were going home.

Falling Asleep at the Computer

Literally. I usually get a day to sleep after a trip, and not so th is time, so I think it's catching up to me. 
Only a few notes from today--
*  When I was in Kansas City, DSP had some extra books to send home with me for promo and such, and I'd bought a lot of T-shirts. On the last day I decided to send home a box with my books and my dirty laundry (to make room for the kid's T-shirts) and went to the service guy at the con:
"So, do you guys sell boxes?" I asked the classically handsome blond/blue-eyed midwestern wonder behind the counter.
"Uh..."  
I adjusted my dirty laundry in the bag in my hand. "Please tell me you sell bags."
"Uh..."
And I blanked. Just blanked. 
"Ma'am?"
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm picturing one of those big butcher's bones you buy for your dog."
"I'm sorry, ma'am?"
"Because I'm boned."
He laughed.
In the end, I got a box from one of the T-shirt vendors-- a ginormous box, actually.  I put the books on the bottom and padded them with my dirty laundry.
The box arrived today-- beat to shit--and Mate asked, "What the hell is that?"
"Books," I said.
"Anything else?"
"Laundry."
"You sent home laundry?"
"I've done it before. At least there's no shoes in this one."
"Sure."
*  *  *
And in other news, we had to leave my minivan at the car dealership today so they could repair the air conditioner.  To replace it, they gave me a CR-V, which, for those of you who remember Fish Out of Water, Jackson got TWO of in the course of the book.
And if you read the ficlet posted at Grave Tells you get the feeling that maybe Jackson and this particular car are just kind of cursed.
So Raj, my friendly neighborhood Honda dealership guy walks me out to the car, and I was like, "Hey, that's Jackson's car!"
And he had no idea what I was talking about.
But that didn't mean I wasn't taking notes for Jackson as I drove out of the lot.
*  *  *
And that's it for tonight-- did I mention I was falling asleep?  Night all!

Unanticipated Side Effect

Sorry no blog last night.

I got back home and in addition to the kids starting school and the other stuff that happens when you're going for four days, the car was breaking down, my phone is dying (hence, no pictures), and the animals needed to go to the vet.

Steve had to go for regular reasons, but Geoffie--

Aw... poor baby.

She has allergies (or so we think) and we had to put the e-collar on her because she was scratching her eyes and they looked HORRENDOUS. So I took her to the vets on Monday (and btw, you're going to meet some of the vet people in my Christmas story, Freckles, and I hope you love them like we do!) Anyway-- Geoffie has allergies but she also has swollen lymph nodes from (we hope!) some sort of infection. We're worried, at any rate. So we could give her benedryl for the allergies, but we couldn't give her prednisone, which means it's taking a long time for her eyes to clear up.

She's been in the e-collar for four days.

Today, I took the damned thing off, figuring she'd start scratching her eyeballs right away and I'd put it right back on--but that's not what happened.

No. Instead, she spent a good twenty minutes licking and scratching all the rest of her body.

Especially her ass. It was like she was saying, "Oh, ass, did you miss me? Just because I haven't been there for you doesn't mean I haven't wanted to spend time with you!"  It was embarrassing-- reuniting a dog and her ass-- who knew?

Anyway-- the car still needs to be fixed and the phone is on it's last gasp--and the dog spent 20 minutes during my nap sounding just like this:



But I hope her allergies clear up and her lymph nodes go down and my little dog is okay. I'm very much used to her being healthy and happy and a general joy in my life-- I want her to go back to that. If nothing else, I'd like her to be able to scratch her own ass, right?