MeiLin Miranda's Blog, page 57
February 12, 2011
A Particular Kind of Medical Bill (updated x2)
[2nd update: The fundraiser is over, for both sorts of medical bills. The fragment is now behind the patron wall, and I'm writing a bonus story that will go up in its place as a fundraiser. I really only wanted the fragment up there for a bit. Thanks to everyone who helped!]
You've probably seen that I'm running an odd little fundraiser to help pay off some medical bills. I have a particular one that has just popped up:
A Particular Kind of Medical Bill (updated)
You've probably seen that I'm running an odd little fundraiser to help pay off some medical bills. I have a particular one that has just popped up:
My Hitachi Magic Wand
has died.
A Particular Kind of Medical Bill
You've probably seen that I'm running an odd little fundraiser to help pay off some medical bills. I have a particular one that has just popped up:
My Hitachi Magic Wand has died.
February 11, 2011
Chapter 7 Part 5 | Lovers and Beloveds | IHGK Book One
On the day Warin set off for the village, the snow had nearly melted. The stream nearby roared in a thousand garbled young voices as it rushed toward the river, swollen with the snowmelt. Warin held Emmae at the door of the cottage. A week's worth of wood stood under the eaves nearby, already chopped; Warin's enormous pack sat at his feet, stuffed with pelts and forage.
February 9, 2011
Episode 44: Friendship | Scryer's Gulch
Mrs Smith was some cook all right. Annabelle had tried to be ladylike, but sitting through services on an unusually empty tummy had taken the restraint right out of her; she'd eaten herself to within a pinch of her stays.
After dinner Mrs Smith retired to the washing-up, Jamie was sent in to help her, and Rabbit excused himself to the jail: "My, uh, my monthly troubles are coming due. Time I got ready for 'em."
"Going up into the mountains, brother?" said John.
"No," said Rabbit reluctantly. "No, I'm stayin in town. Maybe next month."
His departure left Annabelle and John alone before the front parlor stove. "He goes up into the mountains when he changes? Is that safe?" she whispered.
"No need to whisper, everyone here already knows. Yes. Uh, sometimes he goes hunting then."
Annabelle crinkled her nose. "I am uncertain as to how that might work, I fear. A werewolf, or a mountain lion, yes, but a hare?"
February 7, 2011
Chapter 7 Part 4 | Lovers and Beloveds | IHGK Book One
Temmin took his meals that day standing up in his rooms. He slept on his stomach, and in the morning, skipped his ride. He made it through breakfast with the aid of a fat cushion; Jenks had discreetly tipped off Affton, and between the two of them, they'd gotten the Prince settled in the morning room without anyone in the family noticing. When he returned to his rooms, Teacher already waited, perched just outside the arc of light that crossed the wide library table. "And how was your ride this morning, Your Highness?"
February 4, 2011
Chapter 7 Part 3 | Lovers and Beloveds | IHGK Book One
The next day, Temmin wore his riding clothes to breakfast, going straight to the morning room from the stables and returning there straight after, as Jenks discovered too late. "He's gone, Mr Jenks, sir," said the Riding Master when the valet searched for his errant charge. "He wore the chestnut oot this morning an took another horse--Inchari mare, a rare fine un. T'was odd for him to be goin back oot, but it's not fer me to decide what a Prince should do, eh? We'll tell him you want him, sir."
"I'll tell him more than that when I see him, Pagg damn him for a headstrong boy," rumbled Jenks to himself on the way back to Temmin's rooms. "Tempted to chase him down and turn him over my knee."
The "headstrong boy," however, was in fine spirits, and not in the least repentant. Whatever admonition he might receive for skipping his studies was worth getting out of the Keep, and away from Fennows. He couldn't avoid the lordling at breakfast, and Fennows's endless fawning over Ellika enraged him; it was all Temmin could do not to vault across the toast rack and throttle him.
February 2, 2011
Episode 43: A Prognostification | Scryer's Gulch
Emmy Parsons stood in the Hopewell kitchen doorway, pulling bristles out of the scrub brush in her hand as she stared after the couple going through the front door. She did not like the schoolmarm's visiting over to the Runnels house one bit. But what could she do about it? She knew only one thing. She had that letter the Duniway woman wrote to that other man. John Runnels needed to see it before he did something stupid, "stupid" in Emmy's mind being anything that didn't end up with his loving her.
He saw her back in the day twice--never saw another girl as far as she knew--and was almost the kindest a man had ever been to her in that way, treated her like a real girl and not a girl for hire. Only one nicer was his brother Rabbit, but she didn't want any of that buck-toothed gawk. She wished he'd stop hanging around, and John would start. Why shouldn't he? Emmy wasn't so hard on the eye. Had most of her teeth, was a real hard worker--harder than that Duniway ever worked, she reckoned--and she liked kids enough not to pester them about history and such. She'd make the Sheriff a real good wife. She'd even settle for being his woman if he didn't want to marry again. He'd taken the death of Missus Runnels awful hard. Emmy wondered again what she'd been like; she died before Emmy'd come to the Gulch.
What was the best way to approach him? How should she give him that letter?
A great crash jerked Emmy around. Ralph stood in the middle of the kitchen, slack-jawed; at his feet lay the pot he'd been about to put by the wash sink. He stared off at nothing with eyes as white and cloudy as milk.
"Emmy Parsons," said Ralph, "I have a warnin fer you."
February 1, 2011
Rose & Bay Fiction Awards voting is open (update)
Boy, I'm just full of news these days. The Rose & Bay Awards for crowdfunded projects has opened for voting, and golly, you can vote for me there! I came in second last year to Cecilia Tan's "Daron's Guitar Chronicles," hardly a shameful thing, and the cool thing is it introduced me to her. She's the publisher at Circlet Press, which has bought two stories from me.
So anyway, vote for me! 
UPDATE: The original link was wrong; if you used it, you have to vote again. 
It's Official: "Lovers and Beloveds" Best Erotic Novel 2010 P&E Readers Poll
Thanks to everyone who voted for "Lovers and Beloveds" in the Preditors & Editors Readers Poll, I won for Best Erotic Novel. I'm kinda surprised, frankly--not because I don't think I've got a decent book, but because LaB falls in such a weird area: not quite fantasy, not quite erotica. I'll take it anyway. It confers nothing but bragging rights (and this handsome graphic), but I'll take those too! Off to update all my various blurbs.
