Robin L. Rotham's Blog, page 5

Fast-and-Dirty Contest Winners!

Hooray! Thanks to all you you who entered my Fast-and-Dirty FrankenDom release contest!



The winners are: Michelle A. and Daemon! Congratulations to both of you! I'll be emailing you shortly.

FrankenDom Lives!

Yes, my friends, FrankenDom is now live on both Amazon and Smashwords! It should be going live on Nook sometime soon -- I'll post the link as soon as I have it.



I'm over at Smutketeers today with an exclusive excerpt and contest, so if you want to be included in the drawing for a $10 gift card and a copy of any one book from my backlist (digital or print), hie yourself over there and comment! (Or I guess I'll be there after the post goes up. *grin*) And remember, my Fast-and-Dirty Website Contest is still going on -- giving away two free downloads of FrankenDom!








Go forth and enjoy!

Smutketeers Freaky Pre-Halloween Contest!

We're getting our freak on over at the Smutketeers blog this weekend, and not just because of Halloween. Stop by and check it out! We're giving away a $100 Amazon gift card...



Smutketeers and Their Freaky Weekend Before Hallooween--A Contest!



Mwahahahaha!

FrankenDom Blurbage...and Website Excerpts!

Coming October 29, 2012!



A scientist with an obsession. A protégée with an agenda. And a surgeon with needs too long denied…



Vascular surgeon Dr. Rachel McBride knows she’d be insane to pass up a prestigious fellowship for the chance to work on Julian Kilmartin’s cutting-edge research project. The reclusive neurologist has been the object of her submissive daydreams since residency, and time and distance have only strengthened the dark compulsion.



To complicate matters, a former lover who was all too aware of her attraction to Julian is also on the team. Charmingly obnoxious Dr. Colin Carter was Julian’s protégée back in the day, and nothing appears to have changed…or has it? There’s an earnestness to Colin now, an urgency she’s never seen in him—and he claims her desire for Julian was reciprocated but deliberately left unfulfilled.



When she takes the chance and travels to eastern Europe, Rachel discovers that research is only part of her job description—and submission is only the beginning of the sexual excesses Julian and Colin will demand from her.



But when the unthinkable nature of Julian’s research project is finally revealed, Rachel is ready to run from the men she thought she knew. Securing her cooperation will take a touch of coercion, a bit of bondage, and all the erotic torture two deliciously deviant doctors can apply.



Reader Advisory: You should assume any Robin L. Rotham book contains BDSM elements, anal play, and every possible ménage à trois permutation plus occasional spares. Additionally, FrankenDom contains mad scientists, real dungeons, whips, chains, spanking, a variety of taboo fantasies, mild puppy play, electrical devices in uncomfortable places, humor, and an intimidating ratio of sadists to masochists.






» Relatively Tame Excerpt «


Although I’d gone to sleep at barely nine o’clock the evening before, I woke up late and had to rush to make it to breakfast on time. I didn’t quite make it because my legs were so stiff and sore from the day before, I could barely walk, let alone run.



Julian scowled at me when I limped in. “What time is breakfast served, Rachel?”



“Eight-thirty, Sir, but—” I bit my tongue, refusing to look at Colin. It would have been nice if he’d woken me before he left this morning, but it wasn’t his responsibility.



“But what, slave?”



“Nothing, Sir. It’s my fault. It won’t happen again.”



“Glad to hear it. Now sit down and eat, quickly. Normally I’d make you skip the meal but you missed a meal yesterday so I’ll have to think of some other punishment.”



Sighing with both relief and resignation, I took my seat. “Yes, Sir.”



But things went downhill from there. I’d just taken the first bite of my oatmeal when Julian said, “I assume your workout ran late?”



I closed my eyes. Oh, crap. “No, Sir. I actually didn’t make it to my workout.”



“And why not?” he drawled.



“I forgot all about it, Sir. I don’t usually work out in the morning.” Or anytime.



I braved a glance at him and then wished I hadn’t. He looked annoyed.



“Rachel, I reminded you right before you went to sleep,” Colin said gently.



Gasping, I cried, “You did not!”



He shook his head, giving me a pitying look. “Rachel, did I or did I not say right before you turned out the light that Hans was looking forward to your next workout?”



“Colin! That wasn’t a reminder. You were teas—”



“It sounds like a reminder to me,” Julian said. “I realize that you don’t enjoy working out, Rachel, but it’s not acceptable for you to just not show up. I’m surprised Hans didn’t call to tell me you’d wasted an hour of his time this morning.”



“But Sir—”



“Silence!”



Bristling with annoyance, I shut my mouth.



“Now, you’ll finish your breakfast and go directly to the exercise facilities for your session with Hans. When you’re done, you’ll shower and meet us in the operating room. You will not go anywhere near the hot tub—understood?”



Groaning inwardly, I nodded. I wouldn’t even look at the hot tub, no matter how badly I needed a good, long soak.



It took me forever to limp down to the exercise room, and Hans lectured me for being late, for missing my first appointment, for not stretching before bed and when I got up, and for being generally lazy and out of shape. As if that weren’t torture enough, he worked me harder than he had than the day before, shouting at me in German half the time when I couldn’t keep up the pace he demanded or lift as much weight as he thought I should be able to. When my triceps turned to burning noodles and he sneered at me because I couldn’t do one more rep, I finally snapped.



“Colin told you to take it easy on my arms, you prick!”



“I am taking it easy, you little wienie,” he scoffed.



“Fine. I’m a wienie. A done wienie,” I added, stomping off to the locker room.



At my locker, I stripped as quickly as I could, groaning at the soreness in my legs and abs. I’d absolutely kill for five minutes in the hot tub, but I would have to settle for a hot shower.



I looked around for the towels and finally saw a pile of them on a table between the steam and sauna doors. After I turned on one of the showerheads to let the water warm up, I picked my way gingerly across the cool tile and grabbed two towels off the table.



When I turned around, I ran into Hans and stumbled.



“Whoa!” He tried to catch me, but instead he shoved me right into the hot tub.



As I went under, my mind went ten different directions at once. Julian was going to kill me. Was there any way I could keep him from finding out? Forget it, the guilt would eat me alive. I had to tell him. How long could I possibly stay in here and still consider it an accident? God, it felt so good! My butt still burned more than the rest of me in the hot water, and even that felt good. Colin was going to laugh his ass off when he heard. I still hated Hans. Just two more seconds…






» Kinkier Excerpt«





It was almost a letdown when Dirk turned on his heel and disappeared through the infirmary door.



But I held my breath as Vince prowled toward me with the unblinking intensity of a predator. “Thank you, slave, for failing to cooperate,” he purred. “I do enjoy helping strip a reluctant little sub.”



When he moved behind me, I let out the breath I’d been holding. Then I jumped when he gave the scarf holding back my hair a sharp tug.



“Such pretty dark hair,” he said, winding the navy and hunter green silk around his hand as he came back into view.



Dirk reappeared all too soon, flipping a switch by the door as he walked by. Lights came on the back wall—two heavy wrought-iron sconces with flame-shaped incandescent bulbs. Between them, four chains were bolted to the stone, two long ones up high and two short ones at ankle height. An adjustable black cuff dangled at the end of each.



I put my hands behind me and glanced around for another avenue of escape. There actually was another door cut into the corner, directly in line with the one we’d entered through, but the next room was completely dark. God only knew what might await me that way.



“Are you wearing anything of personal value?” Dirk asked.



“No.” He raised his brow and just stood there until I added, “Sir?”



“Excellent.” When he nodded at Vince, they grabbed my arms and propelled me backward to the wall, completely unaffected by my instinctive struggles. The instant I was spread-eagled in the nicely padded cuffs, something in me…settled. My pulse throbbed slowly, and my chest rose and fell visibly as my breathing deepened. Whatever happened next was no longer up to me. It was scary but at the same time a relief. This was rather what I’d hoped to feel during my one aborted foray into the world of BDSM two years ago, only more so.



While I pondered the feeling, Julian set the clipboard on the lab table and touched something behind Colin that lowered his arms to his sides but didn’t release him. Colin rolled his shoulders and flexed his arms in a mesmerizing display of lean muscle.



I forgot all about everything but Dirk when he held up a scalpel with an evil smile.

The settled feeling vanished like it had never been. “Julian?” I said nervously, unable to take my eyes off the gleaming surgical instrument.



“You asked for this, slave, remember?”



With the cold stone wall behind me and the scalpel in front of me, I drew in another breath and held it, cringing back as Dirk reached out and neatly sliced the top button off my sweater, and then the next one down. Both landed with small tic! sounds on the cold stone floor.



I finally started breathing again—panting, actually—when he lowered the scalpel to the button between my breasts. Against all reason, they swelled anxiously, my nipples prickling and my clit throbbing a drumbeat of fierce arousal.



“Little adrenaline junkie,” Dirk murmured as he flicked the button off.



A puff of laughter escaped me. “Hardly. This is the craziest thing I’ve ever done.”



“And you’re wildly turned on, aren’t you? I’m a surgeon too, you know. Cardiothoracic. You have to be at least a bit of an adrenaline junkie to become a surgeon, I think.” Tic! Another button landed on the floor.



I stared into his dark gray eyes, completely confused, and he smiled. “Did you know your irises have almost disappeared, little horny slave?”



Tic, tic, tic…



“Why?” I finally managed to croak.



“Why the deception?” When I nodded, he said, “Because I wanted to see the real Rachel McBride. People tend to be more open around lowly staff. Imagine my dismay when you insulted Julian’s fine home before you’d even set foot inside.”



Heat crept into my cheeks but I couldn’t think of anything to say in my defense. Colin, I’d noticed, was watching Dirk’s progress avidly, and he mouthed bad girl at me before grinning from ear to ear.



I stuck my tongue out at him.



Then Dirk used the scalpel to spread open my sweater, revealing the wrinkled white blouse underneath.



“You dress like a schoolgirl,” he said severely. “And this afternoon you acted like a schoolgirl, saying the first thing that came to your mind without thought for your generous host. You should be disciplined like a schoolgirl, don’t you think, slave?”



Was there a right answer to that?



“Feel free to discipline her in any way you see fit for her poor manners, Dirk.”



I bit my lip, cursing the arousal that slithered through my abdomen.



“Thank you, Julian, I shall do that when I believe she is in the proper headspace to benefit from it.”



“Excellent.”



Dirk pulled my blouse from my skirt and made much better time slicing away its buttons. When he reached my ecru cami, he immediately slid the scalpel underneath and sliced it right down the front. The soft buzz of the fabric parting set my clit on fire.



“Now we’re getting somewhere.” He pulled the sides of my clothes apart. “Such fine big titten you hide behind all that ugly material!”



I let my head fall back against the wall, breathing heavily. Why, why, why did this turn me on so freaking much? I should hate the things Dirk said to me, about me. I should hate feeling like a sex object—or more to the point, a collection of sex objects.



“I told you,” Colin said, his heavy eyes fixed on the titten in question. His cock, which had been flaccid when I arrived, now stood at stiff attention, booby-trap apparatus and all.



“Colin!” I cried. Was there anything he hadn’t shared about me?



His eyes didn’t move, but he licked his lips. “What?”



Dirk distracted me by taking the handle of the scalpel between his teeth and yanking my bra cups down under my breasts.



I groaned, unnerved and yet unbelievably aroused to be so crudely exposed to the eyes of these men, three of whom I’d never slept with and two of whom I’d never met before today. My nipples were already tight, hard peaks begging for attention—which Dirk provided without hesitation, leaning over to tease them with his hot tongue.



Whimpering, desperately craving more, I pushed forward helplessly and he chuckled. “Your pretty little slut is dripping in her schoolgirl tights, Julian. I can smell it.”



Slut. For just an instant I tensed, but arousal triumphed. “Please.”



“No manners, no patience, and probably no control over her orgasm,” he said scornfully. I was just starting to feel like the worst slave ever when he added, “You have years of intensive training ahead, you lucky bastard.”



“One can only hope,” Julian replied with a grim smile as he walked closer. Gesturing at my chest, he said, “I want this all off.”



At once, Dirk sliced everything above my waist, including my bra, into ribbons.



“Was that really necessary?” I complained as he pulled the pieces off me.



“No, you mouthy little slut, but it was certainly fun,” he said with a smile.



Again the word slut buffeted me, whipping up my emotions like a high wind on water. I bit my tongue. I’m not a slut.



Then Julian touched me for the first time. He laid the fingertips of his long, narrow right hand on my collarbones, letting them rest there for a moment before ghosting them up over my throat and chin to explore the contours of my lips.



Then he laid both hands on my waist. “Kiss me, Rachel.”



All the breath rushed out of me and my heart thumped crazily while I stared at him as if I’d never seen him before. Which I hadn’t, at least not from this close and not in any circumstances where I felt free to study him. His face was much larger than I’d imagined, his bold nose longer, his chiseled lips fuller and the cleft in his stubborn chin deeper. It was a distinguished face. A heroic face.



A face I had permission to kiss.



Before he had a chance to change his mind, I stood on my toes and pressed my hungry mouth to his.

FrankenDom!

You're never going to believe this, and some of you may want to kill me because I promised you a different book would be done this week. But sometimes creative lightning strikes with such brilliance and intensity, you just have to let it blow right from your brain to your fingertips and out or you'll explode.



That's what happened to me on September 3, 2012. The person responsible for that is R.G. Alexander. She's also responsible for this cover. If you see her online, THANK HER. If you see her in person, lay a big wet one on her for me.



FrankenDom was supposed to just be a fun little Halloween short I was going to self-publish for promotional purposes, but the concept was just too big to contain. Forty-nine days after conception, it was delivered to my beta readers as a 73K novel. Since I just officially finished the final draft yesterday, I haven't got blurb and excerpts ready yet, but I'll post them as soon as I've developed them. I think I need a little more sleep first.



FrankenDom should be up for sale a bazillion places on Monday, October 29.



But now, without further adieu, I give you...









I am so freaking excited about this cover!

James Bond-age: Reclaiming the Man's Hero

Today I noticed that the latest James Bond installment, Skyfall, is due to hit US theaters on November 9th (two weeks after the UK gets it! :P). I'd love to see it, but I know Mr Robin won't go -- he left the theater after Casino Royale sneering "They turned him into a women's hero!" and hasn't been back since.




I started thinking about how the writers/directors/whoever had ruined James Bond for Mr Robin and all the man's men who were so disappointed with the last one, and wondering how the character might be redeemed for them. And thus was planted in my imagination the seed of today's kink-themed Saturday Sixteen.
So without further adieu...





Reclaiming the Man's Hero:



16 James Bondage Movies












On Her Master’s Slutty Service












Dr. No-means-yes









Dominants Are Forever











You Only Glove Twice











Whip and Let Cry













Cry Another Way











License to Fill















This Guy Who Lubed Me













Bumraker













For Your Thighs Only













Lockedupussy













 A View to A Kilt













Shibari Never Unties













The Wand Is Not Enough











Quantum of Sore Ass

















The Man with the Golden Shower








Well, what do you think? I think Mr. Robin would enjoy at least a few of those. I know I certainly would. *grin*

Kick Robin's Ass Contest!

All righty, my friends, it's contest time again. Here's your chance to do three exciting and potentially profitable things:



1) kick my ass and make me enjoy it

2) help me finish the fucking book!

3) enter to win a $25 Amazon gift card and a copy of Carnal Compromise (or any one of my backlist titles) in my September/October website contest



Just visit my contest page and follow the directions there for your chance to do all three!



OR...



Just email me at robin@robinlrotham.com and offer me encouragement. Those who also promise creative and painful corporal discipline if I miss my dealine will be entered twice. *grin* The contest will end at noon on October 26th, and the winners will be announced on the morning of October 27th. So start working on those threats, people! I'm going to need them.

Hey, Look What I Can Do!

As go about the business of get back into my groove, all the little things I can do, things that I took for granted before I suddenly had a 2yo living in my house, begin to occur to me. Here are just a few:



1. Leave my phone (my glass of water, my reading glasses, my computer) on the hearth.



2. Put my grandmother's blue cut glass genie bottle back on the kitchen island and my grandmother's blue fruit bowl back on the dining table.



3. Take the doorknob covers off the office, the guest bathroom, the laundry room, my bedroom, the utility room, and the kids' bedrooms.



4. Put the cushions back on the dining chairs.



5. Take the locks off the kitchen cabinets.



6. Put the nightlights back in the outlets.



7. Put the books back on the bottom shelves.



8. Get my new treadmill out and start using it again without fear of finding crunched crayons under the belt.



9. Leave the door open when I exit a room.



10. Put my iHome back in the dining room and listen to music while I work.



11. Take the step stool out of the bathroom and get rid of the tub toys.



12. Put the sandstone coasters (the few left unbroken by the 2yo) and a few knick-knacks back on the occasional tables.



13. Put the DVDs back into the TV cabinet.



14. Leave the house whenever I want to--go walk at the track, work out at the Y, do my grocery shopping, have lunch with a friend, attend writers' meetings--without having to line up childcare.



15. Write as late as I damn well want to.



16. Swear without fear of having my words immediately parroted.



18. Put Mr Robin's meds back into the bathroom drawers.



19. Sit on the porch by myself.



20. Clean windows, dust and polish furniture, and scrub the wall under the handrail, and expect them to still be clean an hour later.



21. Keep pens and markers at hand without worring that they'll be used to scrawl on the walls the instant I turn my back.



22. Put away the toy box and expect that the living room will still be neat the next time I walk in.



23. Put something down and expect to find it right where I left it.



24. Talk on the phone without being constantly and rudely interrupted.



25. Watch a TV show or movie without interruption.



26. Sleep through the night.



27. Fold laundry without "help" from a 2yo.



Well, that list could go on forever, but you get the idea. This is really going to take some time to get used to...

I'M FREEEEEEEEE!!!

Yes, all the fosters have left my house. It won't quite be official until Monday, but as of late this morning, they're having a weekend visit with their mother Margo and won't have to come back to our house. Wheeeee, we're a family of five again! Funny how being the mother of three suddenly seems like a breeze. *grin*



We did lots of laundry last night and sent them home with plenty of clean clothes. It took two trips to get all their stuff home, and we're still finding little things here and there. Of course, this doesn't mean they're out of our hair for good. We'll be babysitting for various appointments on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday this week, and every Tuesday and Wednesday for a few months, but at least it's just for a couple of hours at a time and if we want to, we can do it at their house so that Margo doesn't have to get two toddlers and an infant strapped into her car.



I haven't really relaxed yet. It's going to take me a while to adjust to my freedom, not to mention the peace and quiet. It's so quiet here tonight! I keep getting that sneaking feeling that someone's doing something they're not supposed to. Trust me when I say it was a hell of a long four-plus months -- I can't even begin to describe everything that's happened since I last blogged. I don't really want to relive it all, but suffice to say that I've never heard so much screaming, yelling, whining, crying, stomping, and door-slamming in all my life. I've had more contacts with police officers and sheriff's deputies in the last four months than I have in all my life. And I've been defied, called a bitch, and involved in more physical altercations in the last four months than I have in all my life.



I'm never doing it again. Never. Not that I could if I wanted to -- just a couple of weeks after we took the fosters, the state laws changed. If we wanted to foster again, we'd have to go through a lengthy licensing process. Margo had better keep her shit together because next time our hands will be tied -- we won't be allowed to take her kids.



My own kids were absolutely amazing throughout. They put up with a lot and helped me even more. I even got to attend RWA National in Los Angeles last month -- my 11yo daughter went with the 8yo foster to summer camp that week, and my 13yo daughter did all the cooking for everyone else. What I regret most of all about this whole thing is that my kids had to give up the summer vacation we'd planned. School starts next Wednesday, and my 15yo son already has football practice and band activities that prevent us from trying to do it now.



And as if having three fosters, one of them uncontrollable, wasn't enough to deal with this summer, we experienced both our worst drought and our hottest July in recordkeeping history. There were more 100+ degree days this summer than there've been in all the eighteen years I've lived here put together. (And for six weeks of that, I helped Mr Robin clean out ten grain bins. Can you say heat stroke?) As a result, we won't be having much of a corn crop. Only one of our sixteen fields is irrigated, and even that one will see significant yield loss because of the weather. Fortunately, we carry decent crop insurance, so it won't hit us nearly as hard as it will some farmers. Plus, we finally started getting some rain last week -- in fact, it rained four out of the first eight days of August, and August is the critical moisture month for soybeans, so those might turn out all right.



But I'm sure you didn't check in here to get the farm report -- on to the writing report.



I'll say right up front, I haven't written a word since the fosters were dropped on me out of the blue that first week in April. There was just no way I could with first seven, and then six, and finally five kids around the house all summer. The 2yo stayed with us from beginning to end, and he didn't settle down and start sleeping through the night occasionally until July. He generally woke up crying two to four times every night, and just when he finally adjusted and started sleeping better, home visits began, and he was always so upset after them that he'd sleep badly for a couple of nights. And I had appointments out the ears with social workers, doctors, dentists, psychiatrists, attorneys and school officials all summer.



Fortunately, that's all behind me now. As I said earlier, school starts Wednesday, and I plan to dive back into my works-in-progress immediately. Getting a book or two out will be my top priority in the coming months, and I'm calling on all my writing buddies to crack the whip and help me focus.



And speaking of which, I'm thrilled to announce that I recently joined my dear friends, the Smutketeers, and we're busy planning some very special projects for the near future. Rest assured they'll light a fire under me -- not to mention, keep me blogging more regularly. :)



Thank you all, my fans and friends, for being so faithful and patient. I promise I'll deliver the goods! Stay tuned...



p.s. If you've emailed me this summer and haven't had a reply, I'M SO SORRY! I'm just now beginning to wade thru the pile and I promise I'll answer at the earliest possible moment!

Insanity Abounds...An Update

Some of you may be wondering, "Robin, where in the HELL have you been?!"




Well, the short answer is, Going INSANE. A week ago yesterday, I had four foster children dropped on me. The oldest two are the 11yo Demon Spawn and his 8yo Young Apprentice I've told you about before. The youngest are their younger brothers, ages 11 months and just turned 2. Yes, you read that right -- an infant, a toddler still in diapers, a compulsive liar, and a special needs child with Asperger Syndrome and Oppositional Defiant Disorder.



Hence, the going insane part.



This was not an altogether unexpected development -- Mr Robin and I have known for years that we'd wind up with custody of our foster daughter's eldest two children sooner or later. What we didn't know was that she'd pop out three more in the span of 2 years. (Yes, she had another a couple of days before the kids were removed from her home. He went to a different foster family.) When foster daughter dropped the bomb on us last Thursday and asked us to take all 5 kids, we told her we'd take the oldest two but the babies would have to go to another home. As it turned out, the hospital wouldn't release the newborn. But since it was Easter weekend and the toddlers would have to go to the crisis nursery until a home could be found for them, we agreed to take them temporarily.



It's been a rough transition, going from 3 angelic children to 7 mostly not angelic children. There were the requisite physicals that come with children going into foster care -- well-child checks, dental checkups, and eye exams. I'm still not done with all of that. One child has 4 cavities, 2 of which need crowns. One needs braces and a growth removed from his back. The youngest two had no immunizations, so I had to get those started. Some days I felt like I met myself coming and going. My whole life was: up at 6:20, get everyone out the door (the eldest foster child goes to a special needs school 30 miles away) and then mind two toddlers all day by myself until I had to pack them up and go pick up all the kids. And the babies wouldn't sleep for anyone but Mr Robin (who spends more time at foster daughter's home) so I'd have to wait until he came in for lunch to get them down for a nap. And usually they were tired and crabby LONG before he got home so I got to listen to an hour or two of screaming. And in between all that, I was doing dishes and running the washer and dryer almost non-stop. My poor eczema/psoriasis-ridden hands are totally trashed from all the diaper-changing and subsequent hand-washing. Oh, and foster daughter and her BF (the father of the youngest two kids) have been over almost every evening for visits with the kids, which only added to the tension.



Of course all this happened right at planting time -- it couldn't happen in the middle of winter when Mr Robin did nothing but stare at his computer all day.



Needless to say, I've been a woman on the edge. I had to cancel my trip to Chicago for the RT convention *sob* and I haven't had a free minute to write, much less check email or promo or anything else to do with my profession. What makes it really frustrating is that I was SO CLOSE to finishing AmO -- the night before the bomb dropped, I'd pulled an all-nighter and I'd intended to keep working on it all day until it was done. I was still hard at it, dressed in my clothes from the day before, when the phone rang. God, if only I'd ignored it!Instead, I wound up getting all those kids that evening. Yeah, it wasn't pretty. I was a mess for days afterward.



But yesterday, we got confirmation that the kids will all have to be placed long-term, at least six months. DHS still hasn't found a family that will take both toddlers, but the family who took the newborn agreed to take the youngest toddler, so we packed him up and sent him over there yesterday afternoon. It was SO HARD! He's truly adorable, and as much as I didn't want to, I love him to pieces. I cried myself sick when they took him. (It should go without saying that I've been doing a lot of crying over the last eight days.) But Mr Robin and I are just too old and tired to handle so many small children, and we both have too much to do and I have too many other kids to take care of.



So last night we got the 2yo to bed at 10 p.m. and afterward, we lay in our bed talking. The evening had been so different from the previous seven! Mr Robin said it was like being on I-80, where you have to go 75-80 or get run over, and then suddenly getting off onto the 2-lane highway, where the speed limit is only 60. Suddenly we had time to breathe. And think. And read the paper. (And have sex, whee!) I never imagined I'd see the day when I'd be RELIEVED to have just the Demon Spawn, his Young Apprentice, and ME! (aka the toddler) in my care. Suddenly six kids seems totally manageable, and a single 2yo during the day is a breeze. We're looking for daycare for ME! since DHS will pay for it (hell, I'd be looking even if DHS didn't pay for it), but he needs to be caught up on his immunizations first.



This morning, I got up and made breakfast. Made coffee, even. It's amazing how much of my life I took for granted before. Just having time to make coffee and eat breakfast myself was a luxury. And here I am on my computer for the first time, going through piles of email and trying to catch up while the 2yo naps on the couch.



I've gotten several emails in the last few days asking when AmO would be out. The short answer is, I'm not sure but it will be as soon as possible. Now that I have time, I'm going to get in there and get it done, hopefully this week if all remains as calm as it is now. And if I can't get a publisher to rush it out this summer, I'll just publish it myself. It's really nice having that option available, you know?



So that's my story and I'm sticking to it. If you're waiting on an email from me, please be patient while I get caught up.



Thank you, my dear friends and fans, for sticking with me.



Robin



ETA: Even as I post this, ME! is having the biggest temper tantrum I've ever seen in the middle of the floor because Mr Robin won't get up and get him his blankie, which is only 2 feet away on the couch. We're both finally rested enough to laugh about it.