Sorry, you must be a member of the group to do that. Join this group.
Nenia Campbell's Blog - Posts Tagged "whee"
You know something?
Being an author during the Goodreads Choice Awards is like being a child looking for the Golden Ticket. :)
I am super excited that I get to participate this year as an author! And that some of my fave books are being nominated!
OMG THIS IS SO EXCITING.
S:DJFLSKJFSMVNWOSAWHOIEfrhWJOIEs
/flails
I am super excited that I get to participate this year as an author! And that some of my fave books are being nominated!
OMG THIS IS SO EXCITING.
S:DJFLSKJFSMVNWOSAWHOIEfrhWJOIEs
/flails
New Book Bleeds My Desire FINISHED! Updates About Publication to Follow on Facebook Fanpage
I just finished writing my new book, Bleeds My Desire. Obviously, I'm SUPER EXCITED because this is the eleventh book I've written (and completed). It'll take me a few days to read over it a couple times and edit it because it's still a little rough towards the end. As soon as it's ready, I'll submit it to the Amazon Kindle Store and Smashwords.
I'll be posting updates on my Facebook fanpage, "Aficionenias". If you would like to be an aficionenia (a.k.a. an aficionado of Nenias), please 'LIKE' the page, and I will love you for always. <3
Thanks so much for your support, everyone! The enthusiasm has been so inspiring!
If you would like to add the book to your to-read list, click the cover and it'll link you to the book's page.
Once again, thank you all so much!
/squeemission
I'll be posting updates on my Facebook fanpage, "Aficionenias". If you would like to be an aficionenia (a.k.a. an aficionado of Nenias), please 'LIKE' the page, and I will love you for always. <3
Thanks so much for your support, everyone! The enthusiasm has been so inspiring!
If you would like to add the book to your to-read list, click the cover and it'll link you to the book's page.
Once again, thank you all so much!
/squeemission
My Reviewing Blog Just Got Its 50,000th Page View!
Even though I aspire to be a full-time writer, I still try to make as much time for reading and reviewing books as possible. It's a lifelong passion.
Anyway, my reviewing blog, The Armchair Librarian, got its 50,000th page view this week.
I also got my 750th follower on Goodreads, too. ^_^
Thanks for liking my reviews!
xNenia
Anyway, my reviewing blog, The Armchair Librarian, got its 50,000th page view this week.
I also got my 750th follower on Goodreads, too. ^_^
Thanks for liking my reviews!
xNenia
Cloak and Dagger Got Featured on "Diverse Pages"
Diverse Pages "exists to promote and discover Main Characters of Color (MCoC) in the mainstream and independent publishing industry in the genres of fantasy, paranormal, mystery, suspense and sci-fi."
http://www.diverse-pages.com/2014/03/...
I was so honored when I discovered that Cloak and Dagger was chosen. It's always a little scary when you're writing about a cultural heritage different from your own. There's so much that can go wrong, so quickly, and research doesn't really touch upon the emotional and cognitive aspects. I'm so glad I did an okay job. :)
Thank you!!!
xNenia
http://www.diverse-pages.com/2014/03/...
I was so honored when I discovered that Cloak and Dagger was chosen. It's always a little scary when you're writing about a cultural heritage different from your own. There's so much that can go wrong, so quickly, and research doesn't really touch upon the emotional and cognitive aspects. I'm so glad I did an okay job. :)
Thank you!!!
xNenia
So I Was Thinking (and That's Always a Dangerous Thing)
I'd like to write some short stories and then maybe put them up for free.
I will be accepting prompts. I'll write something from one of my existing canons or something new. Whatever you like. :)
What do you guys think? Are you in?
I will be accepting prompts. I'll write something from one of my existing canons or something new. Whatever you like. :)
What do you guys think? Are you in?
OJUC -- A Challenge via Courtney
So in my last post, I said I'd write some short stories for free if you guys gave me a prompt. Courtney asked me to write about a killer cat.
So here you go! >;)
Ojuc by Nenia Campbell
Mark and Vincent were playing the newest Grand Theft Auto. Mark had just run over a hooker, leaving her blood-smeared remains staining the black-top beneath the wheels of his pilfered pimpmobile. A steady rain drummed against the windows of Mark's parents' mock-Tudor.
Vincent downed the second half of his Mountain Dew. “When are your parents going to be home again?”
“I dunno.” Mark didn't take his eyes from the screen. “Late. Why?”
He jerked his head towards the liquor cabinet. “You think your pops would mind?”
“Fuck.” Mark's character had just been apprehended by the cops. “Fine. Just fill it back up with water in case he checks it.”
Vincent poured some vodka in his empty Mountain Dew bottle, took a quick swig, and then carried the vodka bottle with him to the bathroom, using his thumb to mark the level of the liquid. The rain was still falling, but he thought he heard something—like the crackle of dead air on a staticky TV channel.
“Hey—it's just us here, right?” Vincent said, a little nervously.
He knew the question was stupid as soon as he asked it.
“Yeah, and Ojuc.”
Vincent turned off the faucet. “Ojuc?”
“The cat.”
Something moved in Vincent's periphery but when he looked towards the door there was nothing there.
Vincent had never liked cats. Their eyes looked all wrong, like they'd been stolen from another creature. A snake, maybe. Just ripped right out, and placed in their own skulls instead.
He shuddered, and was glad Mark was not there to see it and call him a pussy.
“You named your cat Ojuc?”
“Not our cat. Mom found him in the woods. Ojuc was the name on his collar.”
“Where are its—his—owners?”
“Dunno. Line was disconnected. Must have come from the wrong side of the tracks. You still playing?”
“No. Got anything good to eat?”
“Check the kitchen.”
“You're a shitty host, dude.”
“Fuck you,” Mark said.
Vincent went into the kitchen. There was a box of pizza on the table from earlier, but when he opened the lid, it was empty. “You dick, you ate it all? There was half a pie left.”
Then he heard it—that soft, scratching sound.
“I didn't eat it, you butt-licker,” Mark said scornfully. “You probably put it somewhere retarded.”
Vincent looked around the kitchen, warily. “You think the cat ate it?”
“Yeah, the fucking cat ate it.” Mark snorted. “Blame the cat.”
Since there wasn't any pizza, Vincent opened the fridge door. Something rolled down, and landed on the tiled floor with a soft thwack. Vincent jumped, and cried out in fright. “Dude, there's a rat!”
Vincent heard the sound of the controller being tossed aside. Mark hurried into the kitchen. “Oh, sick,” he said, the sneer disappearing from his face. “Where's its body?”
The head had been ripped right off, strands of flesh and bone dangling like gory streamers.
“Maybe the cat wanted dessert,” Vincent said weakly.
Mark wrapped a plastic bag around his hand, and his class ring caught the light.
“Yeah, maybe,” he agreed. “Ratatouille.”
Vincent watched Mark scoop up the severed rat head, turning the bag inside out, and then knotting it closed. He unlocked the front door and set the bag out on the front porch.
In the living room, something smashed. Mark and Vincent exchanged glances before darting back into the other room. The vodka bottle Vincent had opened was now smashed, the liquid soaking into the fibers of the carpet. “You didn't put it back?” Mark said.
“I was sure I did,” Vincent said.
“My dad is gonna kill me.” Mark grabbed the TV guide from the arm of the sofa and began sweeping the broken shards of glass into a gleaming pile. “Get me another plastic bag, you spas.”
Vincent stomped into the kitchen. Mark had probably knocked the bottle off the table with his own big, fat ass. He tore off one of the bags from the roll. But I put it back, he thought. I know I did.
“You want some paper towels, too?”
Silence.
“Mark? You need some paper towels?”
More silence.
“Fuck you,” said Vincent. “I'm bringing you the paper towels.”
But when he stepped back into the room, Mark was gone. The glass was still in its neat little pile, surrounded by a sea of spilled vodka, which was soaking into the pages of the TV guide.
“Mark?”
He heard a skittering sound, like multiple feet hitting the floor in quick succession.
And then he saw it—a tiny red fleck, standing out like a glass button on the white carpet. With a shaking finger, Vincent touched it with his finger, and warm liquid coated the pad of his index finger. Feeling nauseous suddenly, he lifted his finger to his nose and sniffed. Blood.
“Oh shit,” he said. “Mark? Are you okay, man?”
He probably cut his finger on the glass. He's in the bathroom, getting a band-aid or something.
Vincent wandered towards the bathroom. The hairs on the back of his neck were prickling. He felt … watched. “Mark?” The bathroom door was half-closed—it had definitely been open before. He'd left it open after refilling the vodka bottle. “Mark, are you in there?”
He pushed, but the door wouldn't open.
“Come on,” said Vincent. “This isn't funny. Open the goddamn door!”
He shoved the door hard with his shoulder, and something popped free. It was an arm. Mark was behind the bathroom door, a wet smear where his throat should have been. Both his eyes were gone.
Vincent let out a decidedly girlish scream. “Oh shit! Mark!”
A low growl answered him.
There was a cat in the hall. A huge furry mass with leering green eyes, and blood matting its gaping maw. When it padded towards him, it left red paw prints in its wake. Around its neck was a white collar covered in little pink hearts. The lights caught on the metal disc, highlighting the engraved “OJUC.”
“Shit!” Vincent screamed. “Oh shit!”
Ojuc lunged.
* * *
“I can't believe you've been going out for a year. What are you going to get her?”
“I don't know.” Doug shook his head. “Something special.”
He paused.
“Did you say something?”
“No. So what were you thinking—?”
“It sounds like … meowing.” Doug pushed past some shrubs. “Hello?”
Two green eyes flashed almost maliciously. There was a cat in front of him. It had a white collar covered with pink hearts. A metal disc hung from the collar, but he couldn't make out what it said. Doug could have sworn the cat had something red around its mouth, but when he blinked it was gone.
“Meow,” said the cat.
“It looks like we're getting a cat,” said Doug. “What's your name, dude?”
The name plate was covered with slimy, hairy gunk. Doug made a face as he scooped it away.
“Did you say you found a cat?” his friend said.
“Yeah,” said Doug. “His name's Ojuc.”
The cat coughed up a hairball. Doug picked up the cat and headed home. The hairball gleamed wetly under the sun, which had just broken free from its cloudy prison. A fly landed on the clump, and then a second fly joined it. Their combined weight caused the hairball to shift, revealing a small, glinting ring.
Engraved on the inside of the ring, one could just barely make out the word, “Mark.”
So here you go! >;)
Ojuc by Nenia Campbell
Mark and Vincent were playing the newest Grand Theft Auto. Mark had just run over a hooker, leaving her blood-smeared remains staining the black-top beneath the wheels of his pilfered pimpmobile. A steady rain drummed against the windows of Mark's parents' mock-Tudor.
Vincent downed the second half of his Mountain Dew. “When are your parents going to be home again?”
“I dunno.” Mark didn't take his eyes from the screen. “Late. Why?”
He jerked his head towards the liquor cabinet. “You think your pops would mind?”
“Fuck.” Mark's character had just been apprehended by the cops. “Fine. Just fill it back up with water in case he checks it.”
Vincent poured some vodka in his empty Mountain Dew bottle, took a quick swig, and then carried the vodka bottle with him to the bathroom, using his thumb to mark the level of the liquid. The rain was still falling, but he thought he heard something—like the crackle of dead air on a staticky TV channel.
“Hey—it's just us here, right?” Vincent said, a little nervously.
He knew the question was stupid as soon as he asked it.
“Yeah, and Ojuc.”
Vincent turned off the faucet. “Ojuc?”
“The cat.”
Something moved in Vincent's periphery but when he looked towards the door there was nothing there.
Vincent had never liked cats. Their eyes looked all wrong, like they'd been stolen from another creature. A snake, maybe. Just ripped right out, and placed in their own skulls instead.
He shuddered, and was glad Mark was not there to see it and call him a pussy.
“You named your cat Ojuc?”
“Not our cat. Mom found him in the woods. Ojuc was the name on his collar.”
“Where are its—his—owners?”
“Dunno. Line was disconnected. Must have come from the wrong side of the tracks. You still playing?”
“No. Got anything good to eat?”
“Check the kitchen.”
“You're a shitty host, dude.”
“Fuck you,” Mark said.
Vincent went into the kitchen. There was a box of pizza on the table from earlier, but when he opened the lid, it was empty. “You dick, you ate it all? There was half a pie left.”
Then he heard it—that soft, scratching sound.
“I didn't eat it, you butt-licker,” Mark said scornfully. “You probably put it somewhere retarded.”
Vincent looked around the kitchen, warily. “You think the cat ate it?”
“Yeah, the fucking cat ate it.” Mark snorted. “Blame the cat.”
Since there wasn't any pizza, Vincent opened the fridge door. Something rolled down, and landed on the tiled floor with a soft thwack. Vincent jumped, and cried out in fright. “Dude, there's a rat!”
Vincent heard the sound of the controller being tossed aside. Mark hurried into the kitchen. “Oh, sick,” he said, the sneer disappearing from his face. “Where's its body?”
The head had been ripped right off, strands of flesh and bone dangling like gory streamers.
“Maybe the cat wanted dessert,” Vincent said weakly.
Mark wrapped a plastic bag around his hand, and his class ring caught the light.
“Yeah, maybe,” he agreed. “Ratatouille.”
Vincent watched Mark scoop up the severed rat head, turning the bag inside out, and then knotting it closed. He unlocked the front door and set the bag out on the front porch.
In the living room, something smashed. Mark and Vincent exchanged glances before darting back into the other room. The vodka bottle Vincent had opened was now smashed, the liquid soaking into the fibers of the carpet. “You didn't put it back?” Mark said.
“I was sure I did,” Vincent said.
“My dad is gonna kill me.” Mark grabbed the TV guide from the arm of the sofa and began sweeping the broken shards of glass into a gleaming pile. “Get me another plastic bag, you spas.”
Vincent stomped into the kitchen. Mark had probably knocked the bottle off the table with his own big, fat ass. He tore off one of the bags from the roll. But I put it back, he thought. I know I did.
“You want some paper towels, too?”
Silence.
“Mark? You need some paper towels?”
More silence.
“Fuck you,” said Vincent. “I'm bringing you the paper towels.”
But when he stepped back into the room, Mark was gone. The glass was still in its neat little pile, surrounded by a sea of spilled vodka, which was soaking into the pages of the TV guide.
“Mark?”
He heard a skittering sound, like multiple feet hitting the floor in quick succession.
And then he saw it—a tiny red fleck, standing out like a glass button on the white carpet. With a shaking finger, Vincent touched it with his finger, and warm liquid coated the pad of his index finger. Feeling nauseous suddenly, he lifted his finger to his nose and sniffed. Blood.
“Oh shit,” he said. “Mark? Are you okay, man?”
He probably cut his finger on the glass. He's in the bathroom, getting a band-aid or something.
Vincent wandered towards the bathroom. The hairs on the back of his neck were prickling. He felt … watched. “Mark?” The bathroom door was half-closed—it had definitely been open before. He'd left it open after refilling the vodka bottle. “Mark, are you in there?”
He pushed, but the door wouldn't open.
“Come on,” said Vincent. “This isn't funny. Open the goddamn door!”
He shoved the door hard with his shoulder, and something popped free. It was an arm. Mark was behind the bathroom door, a wet smear where his throat should have been. Both his eyes were gone.
Vincent let out a decidedly girlish scream. “Oh shit! Mark!”
A low growl answered him.
There was a cat in the hall. A huge furry mass with leering green eyes, and blood matting its gaping maw. When it padded towards him, it left red paw prints in its wake. Around its neck was a white collar covered in little pink hearts. The lights caught on the metal disc, highlighting the engraved “OJUC.”
“Shit!” Vincent screamed. “Oh shit!”
Ojuc lunged.
* * *
“I can't believe you've been going out for a year. What are you going to get her?”
“I don't know.” Doug shook his head. “Something special.”
He paused.
“Did you say something?”
“No. So what were you thinking—?”
“It sounds like … meowing.” Doug pushed past some shrubs. “Hello?”
Two green eyes flashed almost maliciously. There was a cat in front of him. It had a white collar covered with pink hearts. A metal disc hung from the collar, but he couldn't make out what it said. Doug could have sworn the cat had something red around its mouth, but when he blinked it was gone.
“Meow,” said the cat.
“It looks like we're getting a cat,” said Doug. “What's your name, dude?”
The name plate was covered with slimy, hairy gunk. Doug made a face as he scooped it away.
“Did you say you found a cat?” his friend said.
“Yeah,” said Doug. “His name's Ojuc.”
The cat coughed up a hairball. Doug picked up the cat and headed home. The hairball gleamed wetly under the sun, which had just broken free from its cloudy prison. A fly landed on the clump, and then a second fly joined it. Their combined weight caused the hairball to shift, revealing a small, glinting ring.
Engraved on the inside of the ring, one could just barely make out the word, “Mark.”
TOUCHED WITH SIGHT Summary Up!!!
I just posted the Summary to my up-and-coming book, Touched with Sight!
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2...
Catherine Pierce is a black beast, a shape-shifter that has no settled form because of the magic-infused witch blood that runs through her veins. This anomaly brought her to the attention of the ruthless Council that governs her kind. Unfortunately, their corrupt delegate has taken a vested interest in Catherine.
Crown Prince Phineas Riordan is a powerful witch who has mastered three of the four elements. The one thing he can't master is his sexual deviancy, which, if discovered, means his life and his kingdom are forfeit. Because witches and shape-shifters are not allowed to fraternize. Ever. But that won't stop him from using the disappearance of Catherine's childhood friend--and romantic rival--to his advantage.
Meanwhile, the Slayer threat is growing stronger. Catherine and Phineas are on the brink of uncovering the secret organization forming within the bowels of the school...but they're being watched, as well. A war is brewing, and it promises to be an apocalyptic nightmare even worse than the Great War that happened between their kind 200 years ago.
Catherine has seen how the world ends in her dreams: it will be not by fire, or by ice, but by shadow. For she is...touched with sight.
--
What do you guys think? I write my own blurbs, which means I have to compete with all those awesome paid-blurb-writers! Hopefully not too cheesy? ^_^;
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/2...
Catherine Pierce is a black beast, a shape-shifter that has no settled form because of the magic-infused witch blood that runs through her veins. This anomaly brought her to the attention of the ruthless Council that governs her kind. Unfortunately, their corrupt delegate has taken a vested interest in Catherine.
Crown Prince Phineas Riordan is a powerful witch who has mastered three of the four elements. The one thing he can't master is his sexual deviancy, which, if discovered, means his life and his kingdom are forfeit. Because witches and shape-shifters are not allowed to fraternize. Ever. But that won't stop him from using the disappearance of Catherine's childhood friend--and romantic rival--to his advantage.
Meanwhile, the Slayer threat is growing stronger. Catherine and Phineas are on the brink of uncovering the secret organization forming within the bowels of the school...but they're being watched, as well. A war is brewing, and it promises to be an apocalyptic nightmare even worse than the Great War that happened between their kind 200 years ago.
Catherine has seen how the world ends in her dreams: it will be not by fire, or by ice, but by shadow. For she is...touched with sight.
--
What do you guys think? I write my own blurbs, which means I have to compete with all those awesome paid-blurb-writers! Hopefully not too cheesy? ^_^;
Potential New Feature: Author Interviews >:D
As you may or may not know, I have a reviewing blog. I was thinking it might be fun to start interviewing some of my favorite authors and posting the interviews on my blog! I always think it's super fun when people do interviews with me, and I'd love to help out the authors on Goodreads who both work hard AND play nice. Pay it forward, you know? It's not an easy job.
So what do you think? Would you read my interviews? I already have about five people in mind I'd like to ask, and I have a couple of indie efforts on my e-reader that look really interesting.
Are you interested? :D
So what do you think? Would you read my interviews? I already have about five people in mind I'd like to ask, and I have a couple of indie efforts on my e-reader that look really interesting.
Are you interested? :D
Role Reversal (In Soviet Russia, Author Interviews YOU)
Sorry for the Yakov Smirnoff joke (do you guys know who Yakov Smirnoff is--or am I that old?).
So I'm starting this new feature on my blog. In addition to AUTHOR interviews, I will also be interviewing REVIEWERS! Why? Because I think reviewers are pretty cool, and a lot of people don't appreciate what they do.
My latest project is inviting some of my favorite reviewers to answer a few questions about themselves and their review process, and basically help people get to know the person behind the avatar. Because reviewers are people too. (I think sometimes people forget that, which is probably why there's so much author vs. reviewer drama.)
My firstvictim participant, is karen: http://neniacampbell.blogspot.com/201...
I'm sure you've seen her around before. She's pretty awesome, and finds some of the strangest books on Goodreads, and pretty much made monsterotica the craze that it is. Also, she only reviews in lowercase letters! (Is this ringing a bell? :D)
Morevictims participants to be announced! ;)
So I'm starting this new feature on my blog. In addition to AUTHOR interviews, I will also be interviewing REVIEWERS! Why? Because I think reviewers are pretty cool, and a lot of people don't appreciate what they do.
My latest project is inviting some of my favorite reviewers to answer a few questions about themselves and their review process, and basically help people get to know the person behind the avatar. Because reviewers are people too. (I think sometimes people forget that, which is probably why there's so much author vs. reviewer drama.)
My first
I'm sure you've seen her around before. She's pretty awesome, and finds some of the strangest books on Goodreads, and pretty much made monsterotica the craze that it is. Also, she only reviews in lowercase letters! (Is this ringing a bell? :D)
More
Know Anyone Who Would Like to Join the "Sidewalk" Team for My New Book?! :D
I've never really liked street teams. I feel like they put a lot of pressure on the individuals in question to like the book. I also feel like they can create a really hostile and toxic environment sometimes that results in honest (but negative) reviewers getting "punished" on behalf of the author.
I don't want that.
So here's the thing. I'm starting a "Sidewalk" Team for my new book coming out next week. It's called the Sidewalk Team because I don't want my readers getting hit by a figurative mack truck. The sidewalk is a safe place to be, and I want reviewers to feel like they can be honest (and safe) when they review my books. Hence the name.
So! If you are a blogger who is interested in my Shadow Thane series, or know a blogger who might be, let me know! I'll give you a free copy of BLACK BEAST and then, on the day I release it, a free copy of TOUCHED WITH SIGHT. If you hate BLACK BEAST, you can opt out of my Sidewalk Team and I won't feel insulted. You tried something new and that's all I ask.
What do you guys say? :D
I don't want that.
So here's the thing. I'm starting a "Sidewalk" Team for my new book coming out next week. It's called the Sidewalk Team because I don't want my readers getting hit by a figurative mack truck. The sidewalk is a safe place to be, and I want reviewers to feel like they can be honest (and safe) when they review my books. Hence the name.
So! If you are a blogger who is interested in my Shadow Thane series, or know a blogger who might be, let me know! I'll give you a free copy of BLACK BEAST and then, on the day I release it, a free copy of TOUCHED WITH SIGHT. If you hate BLACK BEAST, you can opt out of my Sidewalk Team and I won't feel insulted. You tried something new and that's all I ask.
What do you guys say? :D
