Kim Harrison's Blog, page 21

‘Twas the week before Christmas, and up in the Hollows . . .

The short story “Angel’s Song” will be in the next newsletter to go out. You might have seen it last year, but re-gifting is next to recycling, eh? To sign up, just click: SignUp

But I can’t let today go by without partaking in another of my holiday traditions, so from all of us at the Harrison Household, to you. Merry Christmas!

 

‘Twas the week before Christmas, and up in the Hollows,

Solstice bonfires were burning, to toast the marshmallows.

The pixies were snug in their stump, even Jenks,

Who claimed he was tired, and needed some winks.

So I in my parka, and Ivy in her boots,

Were toasting the season, with thirty-year hooch.

When out in the street, there came such a crash,

I thought that it had to be ‘coons in our trash.

Away to the gate, I trudged through the snow,

While Ivy just said, “If it’s Kist, say hello.”

I lifted the latch, and peered to the street,

My face went quite cold.  We were in it thigh deep.

‘Twas a demon, who stood in the headlamps quite bright,

With his coat of green velvet, and his uncommon height.

His eyes, how they glittered, his teeth how they gnashed,

His voice, how he bellowed, his tongue, how it lashed.

The street wasn’t holy, so on Big Al came,

As he bellowed, and shouted, and called me by name.

“Morgan, you witch.  You’re a pain in my side.

“Get out of your church.  There’s no place to hide!”

Like hell’s fury unleashed, he strode to my door,

Where he hammered and cursed, like a cheap jilted whore.

But Ivy and I, we circled round back,

To stand in the street and prepare for attack.

“You loser,” I shouted.  “I’m waiting for you.”

And the demon, he spun, taking on a red hue.

Ivy stood ready, and I whispered, “Okay . . .

“If he wants to get rough, I’m ready to play.”

With nary a word, us two girls got to work,

Putting foot into gut, of the soul-sucking jerk.

I circled him quick, with a few words of Latin,

While Ivy distracted him with lots of good wackin’

“Get back!” I yelled out when my trap was complete,

And Ivy somersaulted right over the creep.

My circle sprang up, entrapping him surely,

Al fussed and he fumed, like a demonic fury.

The neighbors all cheered, and came out of their houses,

Where they’d watched the whole thing, like little house mouses.

So Ivy and I, we both bowed real low,

Then banished Big Al, in an overdone show.

But I heard Al exclaim, ‘ere he poofed from our sight

“You won this time witch, but I’ll get you one night!”

Kim Harrison

December 14th, 2005

Kim and Guy wish you and yours all the best of the holiday season and a glowing new year.

 

Manic Monday coming (and my dog!)

To find out how to take part in the upcoming manic Monday to get a free audio book of the Drafter, sign up for my newsletter. http://visitor.constantcontact.com There will also be the first information on how to take part in the contest to win a drone later this year when the mass market comes out. The newsletter comes out tonight, so there’s still time to get in on this.

I’ve had a very frustrating morning watching FB share this information to 272 people in one hour because it included a link I’d shared once before, so truly, if you want free stuff, sign up for the newsletter, and then open it when you get it tonight. Otherwise, you’l miss out on the free stuff. And who doesn’t like free stuff in time for Christmas?

As for my dog, she’s back to normal, and it’s the best gift ever.

 

Sorry about that

For those of you who were on subscription to my blog, I apologize for the overload yesterday when I turned my blog back on. I would have found another way or just left it off if I had known that the automated system was going to resend all those messages.

It wasn’t intentional.

 

Learned my lesson well. Ri-i-i-i-ight.

If you become known for something, don’t ever try anything new, or different, or stretch yourself. Just keep doing what you’re known for if you like the feel-good feeling of a job well done. Keep the course, don’t stray from the path. Run out of ideas? Just rewrite it from a different POV. Don’t know what to do next? Rehash and remake! Everyone likes leftovers. It might be stale, and flavorless when you sit down at your desk, but at least you will have all those laurels to cushion your butt, yes? And so easy to market to. No need to do anything different. You’re hash in the literary machine grinding out hamburger.

Yes.

Really? I suppose. I mean, how could someone who puts herself in other shoes six times a day, be able to write anything other than what she’s known for? Right? Yes?

Yes.

But what if that writer can bring what she’s known for and flavor something old and give it a new texture? What if then?

No. You aren’t allowed because you can only speak to women who read romance and urban fantasy. Be happy there.

Okay.

Right.

So . . . I guess I’m back to writing for one. Ya’ll can come if you want.

 

Twenty

Gratiot preferred the intimacy of a low vantage point when working, thick in the stink  and noise of the street to make the moment visceral and real. The sterility of a top floor of a distant building or library window would turn his actions into a flavorless pull of a trigger, and he avoided it when he could. His vantage point was directly across from the apartment building, a mere three floors up in one of the occupied apartments. The owner was a work, but her cat was present, watching him with curious-cat eyes from the couch. His exit was simple: out the back of the building through the sky bridge connecting to the parking garage. From there, he’d hit the streets and be gone.

Quelling his anticipation, he sat atop his one-legged sniper seat, deep within the unlit room, his rifle secure on its tripod trained on the roped-off path from the building’s door to the curb. The woman was taking a U.S. wide morning show tour, and the media hounds were already baying. It was his last, best opportunity to set the world right.

The pure scent of his rifle sifted through his awareness, the perfect smoothness of its finish against his fingers like a lover’s lost touch. He’d been demoted for questionable actions in the field, but when they needed a trigger pulled, they had always come to him. This time, though, he was acting on his own, and an unexpected thrill seeped through him. It was something he’d been missing, and hadn’t even realized. Practice kept his breathing light, his motions small and sparse. He liked his position, his chances, his weapon, and his job.

 

Spoiler alert: He doesn’t take the shot.

Personalized books for Christmas

Nicolas, my local store who has done such a great job in the past handling all the personalized orders, has agreed to help me make it possible for you to get a signed book for Christmas. But only for a short time.

Cut off is the Dec 13th to get it to you by the 25th, and though there are no guarantees, that is a decent amount of time for domestic shipments.

No promises for international orders, but hey, Nicolas does the best they can to get it to you in a timely fashion. To order, go to Nicolas and tell them who you want it signed to:

Click to order your signed book

A little B&N love for The Drafter

Thank you, B&N, for picking The Drafter as one of your top picks for Fantasy and Science Fiction in 2015. It is truly an honor, and I appreciate this down to the bottom of my little writer heart.

If you haven’t picked up The Drafter yet, it is on sale for Nook for 9.99. If you’re looking for something really special for your reader this holiday season, they still have signed copies at the end of the link.

New Mass Market Cover for The Drafter is in the works

New cover for mass market is awesome!  But, I can not show you yet.  However, my publisher is likening Peri to Blindspot, Minority Report and the new Agent X TV shows. Very cool!  Oh, Tim and I will be coming up with a contest for the mass market release.  More later on that.

Pie Points and Falling Stars

I almost titled my post this morning First Comes Want, but that sounded rather romance oriented, and that was not my intent. I’ve been wishing a lot lately, wishes that stem from want, but without action, even wishes will fail you.

It’s not been regret wishing–wishing that I had done something different or went another way, because not only is regret wishing useless and counter productive, but I’m perhaps a tad egotistically certain that The Drafter is a damn fine book that succeeds on multiple levels. Perhaps it is, perhaps it isn’t, perhaps I’m just still in love with my work. But regardless, nothing leaves my desk for the printer until I feel it’s the best I’m able to produce, whether it finds its intended audience or not–whether it’s deemed “good” by my peers, or not. It’s the best I got, so to not be proud of it is dumb.

So not regret wishing, as I stare up at the night sky waiting for a falling star and my chance to petition the gods, but future wishing. These are the wishes that have power.

I wish I had time to get the leaves out of my office garden.

I wish I had eggs so I could bake Tim’s favorite cookies.

I wish I knew what direction to take with my work.

I wish my dog was well and herself again.

So there has been a lot of wishing at my house this last month on pie points and meteor showers. The leaves are not quite out of my garden, but I found time yesterday and made a good start–it felt good to be in the dirt. I made Tim’s second favorite cookie, a recipe from his grandmother that didn’t need eggs–connecting with his past felt good. Work is again crossing my desk–a return to the release it was when I began twenty five years ago, but it feels good. My dog is taking much of my time, but I am thankful that my job allows me to be home 24/7 so as to give her the care she needs as she continues to improve–I almost have her back, and it feels more than good.

So as wishful as I have been, as disappointed, as pulled, as “no-rich” my vocabulary has become lately . . . it feels good to have those wishes come true.

Wishes are like fishes, that swim in the ocean

You get out there and net them, or let them swim away.

My publisher has dropped the price of the e-book early to help stimulate sales. You can now pick it up for 9.99 if you like.

Kindle
Nook

 

no-spoiler, radio interviews

Late last week, I had a couple of radio interviews where I had the chance to talk about the deeper story behind the action/thriller/techy/suspense of The Drafter. Because you know I can’t write a book without putting the human story in it.

The first is with my local Detroit NPR station, where I had the chance to chat with Stephen. I hope to get back next year with him as it wasn’t my best effort. I had not ever brought up the link to Alzheimer in an interview, and my patter wasn’t practiced.

The second is with John at Suspense Magazine, who I have talked with before. You can tell as I’m a lot more relaxed with John than Stephen.

Ah well. I’m still learning how to do this live interview thing. They  never told me I’d have to be good at this when I decided I wanted to write.

Sweeps and audio interview

Simon and Schuster Audio is having a sweepstakes through the end of October, where you can win a $350.00 Visa gift card, a JBl wireless speaker, and 64 GB ipad mini preloaded with this years best thrilling listens. To enter, follow the link to their FB page and follow the instructions. Click

But the real reason I’m posting today is because I wanted to share a really good, non spoiler interview I did with John at BlogTalkRadio for Suspense Magazine this weekend.

It takes a long time to buffer up once you get to their page, but give it time. My segment starts at 30 minutes in, but you don’t want to miss Karin Slaughter right before me, then J.A. Jance afterward. (If you’re looking for the slide bar to jump right to my segment, it shows up at the top of the page, not on the video itself.)