Saturday, April 2, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Wylder Magick Out Today!!
Finally, after more than a year of fielding nothing, my book comes out from ChangelingPress. Elias Wylder was my first "bad boy" and predates Hunter from the Werewulf Journals. The only thing that could tame Elias is his mate, Morven, but she's escaped him and is hiding until a year is up and she can claim her freedom. It doesn't matter that what she wants most is Wylder. He's too powerful, his magic overwhelming. She fears he'll swallow her, comsume her untill there's nothing left but a robot willing to do his will.
But Elias isn't one to take no for an answer. He is willing to make concessions. He's willing to do whatever Morven wants. The only thing he's not willing to do is let her go. Because if she leaves, she'll take his heart with her. Read an excerpt here: http://www.changelingpress.com/content.php?utype=note&uid=4887
But Elias isn't one to take no for an answer. He is willing to make concessions. He's willing to do whatever Morven wants. The only thing he's not willing to do is let her go. Because if she leaves, she'll take his heart with her. Read an excerpt here: http://www.changelingpress.com/content.php?utype=note&uid=4887
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
The Very Necessary Art of Saying Nothing
Intro:
The Jeanie and Jayha walk in all wide-eyed looking around this strange place.
“What is this place, Momma?” The Jeanie asks.
“I’m not sure. It’s so strange in here. Wait, there’s some wording up ahead. Let’s check it out,” Jayha answers as they make their way over.
“Oh, this is a blog,” The Jeanie says.
“Yeah, it is. Should we write something since we’re here?”
“Might as well. Then let’s run away fast before someone expects us to do this on a regular basis,” The Jeanie says.
Jayha translates. “By ‘regular basis’ The Jeanie means ‘ever again.’
The Blog Proper:
People claim that they want the truth. We’ve found that to be not just a lie, but a da*n lie in many situations. People don’t want the truth; people want to hear only what they want to hear. If what they hear happens to be the truth, that’s coincidence. When you tell them anything other than what they want to hear, you run the risk of being labeled a nAgger (please not the second letter is A not I)…or worse.
Many men complain that women nag them. This might be true in some cases, just as it’s most likely true that there was an equal action that led to the alleged nagging. Odds are that nagging wouldn’t be necessary if you simply did what you were supposed to…the first ten times someone asked you to do it. If you weren’t going to do it, man up and say you’re not going to do it. That line of action saves everyone time and energy. It might also save you from an unplanned trip to the ER and your significant other/publisher/homie from being featured on an episode of “Cops.”
Note to readers who are at risk for being featured on the aforementioned show: Please have a t-shirt nearby and a slide your feet into a pair of shoes before you answer the door. Also, if you haven’t done any hardcore jogging in say EVER, then don’t make a run for it. Of course, if you’re highly likely to be featured on COPS than you won’t heed this message. All good, just make a run for it in the daytime so we get a good view of you getting run down, tazed, and kicked in the ribs before being tossed in the back of the cop car.
Where were we? Oh yeah, we were talking about nagging. When people complain about their (insert person) nagging, we just want to warn them. “F*ck the nagging. Be on the lookout for the silence.”
You can hide things in silence—not that unregistered handgun and illegal stash of drugs you have, but other stuff like intent. Silence has an inherent dualism that makes it both great and tragic. It’s defined not simply by dictionaries but most frequently by the event that invokes it. Additionally, it can be used as a weapon by the one who wields it or as a shield by the one who holds it.
Silence can be eloquent… “The most profound statements are often made in silence.” —Lynn Johnston
Silence can be a betrayal… “The cruelest lies are often told in silence.” —Robert Louis Stevenson
Silence can be a command…or a response … "I write for those women who do not speak, for those who do not have a voice because they were so terrified, because we are taught to respect fear more than ourselves. We've been taught that silence would save us, but it won't." -Audre Lorde
Sometimes silence is the only place you can go when you’re bombarded by dumb sh*t…and not just dumb sh*t, but dumb sh*t for no da*n reason. It’s as if someone gave a directive to “cue the crazy.”
Let’s look at some of the examples of crazy that Jeanie and I prepared earlier.
Authors who swear out that not only do they not need proofreading, but they also don’t need editing...despite the fact that their email is filled with spelling errors, double negatives, and one of those misspelled words is their own name.
Authors who read your submission guidelines and yet begin the first line of their query letter with, “I know you said you don’t accept submissions that (insert rule) but, I’m going to submit this anyway.”
Authors who have a book that’s about to drop with one publisher and yet only advertise the books they have with other publishers…that came out two years ago…and got jacked up reviews. And then ask you why they’re not on the bestseller’s list. BWAH HA HA HA.
While we might have nagged our fellow authors about such things before…both Jeanie and I are too tired to really waste our time repeating ourselves. We can’t give a da*n more than the author gives a d*mn. We’re just going to use our time writing wild stories and reading hot ones. And every now and then, we blog.
—Jeanie and Jayha
The Jeanie and Jayha walk in all wide-eyed looking around this strange place.
“What is this place, Momma?” The Jeanie asks.
“I’m not sure. It’s so strange in here. Wait, there’s some wording up ahead. Let’s check it out,” Jayha answers as they make their way over.
“Oh, this is a blog,” The Jeanie says.
“Yeah, it is. Should we write something since we’re here?”
“Might as well. Then let’s run away fast before someone expects us to do this on a regular basis,” The Jeanie says.
Jayha translates. “By ‘regular basis’ The Jeanie means ‘ever again.’
The Blog Proper:
People claim that they want the truth. We’ve found that to be not just a lie, but a da*n lie in many situations. People don’t want the truth; people want to hear only what they want to hear. If what they hear happens to be the truth, that’s coincidence. When you tell them anything other than what they want to hear, you run the risk of being labeled a nAgger (please not the second letter is A not I)…or worse.
Many men complain that women nag them. This might be true in some cases, just as it’s most likely true that there was an equal action that led to the alleged nagging. Odds are that nagging wouldn’t be necessary if you simply did what you were supposed to…the first ten times someone asked you to do it. If you weren’t going to do it, man up and say you’re not going to do it. That line of action saves everyone time and energy. It might also save you from an unplanned trip to the ER and your significant other/publisher/homie from being featured on an episode of “Cops.”
Note to readers who are at risk for being featured on the aforementioned show: Please have a t-shirt nearby and a slide your feet into a pair of shoes before you answer the door. Also, if you haven’t done any hardcore jogging in say EVER, then don’t make a run for it. Of course, if you’re highly likely to be featured on COPS than you won’t heed this message. All good, just make a run for it in the daytime so we get a good view of you getting run down, tazed, and kicked in the ribs before being tossed in the back of the cop car.
Where were we? Oh yeah, we were talking about nagging. When people complain about their (insert person) nagging, we just want to warn them. “F*ck the nagging. Be on the lookout for the silence.”
You can hide things in silence—not that unregistered handgun and illegal stash of drugs you have, but other stuff like intent. Silence has an inherent dualism that makes it both great and tragic. It’s defined not simply by dictionaries but most frequently by the event that invokes it. Additionally, it can be used as a weapon by the one who wields it or as a shield by the one who holds it.
Silence can be eloquent… “The most profound statements are often made in silence.” —Lynn Johnston
Silence can be a betrayal… “The cruelest lies are often told in silence.” —Robert Louis Stevenson
Silence can be a command…or a response … "I write for those women who do not speak, for those who do not have a voice because they were so terrified, because we are taught to respect fear more than ourselves. We've been taught that silence would save us, but it won't." -Audre Lorde
Sometimes silence is the only place you can go when you’re bombarded by dumb sh*t…and not just dumb sh*t, but dumb sh*t for no da*n reason. It’s as if someone gave a directive to “cue the crazy.”
Let’s look at some of the examples of crazy that Jeanie and I prepared earlier.
Authors who swear out that not only do they not need proofreading, but they also don’t need editing...despite the fact that their email is filled with spelling errors, double negatives, and one of those misspelled words is their own name.
Authors who read your submission guidelines and yet begin the first line of their query letter with, “I know you said you don’t accept submissions that (insert rule) but, I’m going to submit this anyway.”
Authors who have a book that’s about to drop with one publisher and yet only advertise the books they have with other publishers…that came out two years ago…and got jacked up reviews. And then ask you why they’re not on the bestseller’s list. BWAH HA HA HA.
While we might have nagged our fellow authors about such things before…both Jeanie and I are too tired to really waste our time repeating ourselves. We can’t give a da*n more than the author gives a d*mn. We’re just going to use our time writing wild stories and reading hot ones. And every now and then, we blog.
—Jeanie and Jayha
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Sunday, March 13, 2011
A New Beginning...
Hello, all.
I've been a long time absent, in the body, if not in thought, from the goings on of my internet families. A ton of things have interfered, interrupted and basically disrupted my time. The main elements have been my children. Twins: Christian and Jacqueline.
They've turned eighteen and finally, the wondrous, highly-anticipated year of emancipation...MINE...is at hand! October 16 was B-day. Not to be so abrupt, I graciously gave them two months to get their affairs in order before walking the plank, er, I mean...finding their own place.
I have waited for this with bated breath, longed for it with wishful sighs... wanted it like an eagle wants roadkill. And when I have it within my grasp, lo and behold, they don't want to leave the nest!
Bear in mind, these are the two who have been threatening to declare themselves Emancipated Minors at sixteen. The two who have moaned and groaned about never being treated like adults or as if they have a damned brain (which I don't disagree with, I simply postulate they have no THOUGHTS in their damned brains).
Well, I wasn't having any of that! Like all good mama birds, I kicked them out of the nest. It was a firm kick, solidly placed between the deep valley of those plump butt cheeks that have been lying around denting my furniture for the last sixteen years. Those same cheeks that have been growing enormously due to the inordinate amount of MY food the mouths attached to said buttocks have been devouring.
For all that, it was a loving kick. The twins need to finish maturing and in order to do that, they need to be out from under mama. First, because when I tell them to do something or attempt to give them advice, they tell me, "I'm a grown _____" and I have to remind them that grown folk pay rent. And buy their own food. And fund the local electrical plant, etc., etc., etc. So with their good in mind, I only smiled, not laughed out loud, as I gently but insistantly pushed them out.
With the wherewithal to survive that first month, and a firm stricture to remain gone until I have time to miss them. They've already disobeyed. Why am I not surprised?
First, Jackie was thrown out of the place she was staying. Something about her mouth, and her saying, "I paid rent and I have the right to..." one too many times. Sigh. Her first lesson in "What part about these people are not your momma and don't have to put up with your shyte, don't you understand?"
True to my word, I didn't let her back in, which forced her to bestir herself to find alternative lodgings. I did drive over so she could cart her stuff back to my house for storage, with the understanding that I would start to charge rental fees on it if it remains here past a month. That went over like a house on fire.
So now I am Mean Mom, but since I've been mean mom for the last two years, I can live with the title. At least I'm By Myself Mean Mom, who doesn't have to lock her doors or gaurd her fridge or count her sodas, cookies, bags of chips, lunchmeat, cheese or popcorn. At least I'm When I Clean the House It Stays Clean Mean Mom.
I can deal with that.
I LIKE that. If I get any positive response to the above and interest in knowing how its going, I'll continue the saga of the New Adults in My Life.
Now, to get back to the reason I posted...
LOL
I'd like to introduce the cover of the book, Wylder Magick, coming out at Changeling the end of March. This is my first release since Hunting Chase almost two years ago. For some reason, I'm finding a new release of imagination and energy. Wylder Magick isn't a new book. It was originally released through Elora's Cave in the Hot Spell Anthology. I've reedited and expanded it for your reading pleasure in advance of the second book coming in that Universe. I'll be posting an excerpt soon.
Meanwhile, thanks for listening to my ramblings. Life is like visiting the County Fair. It's no fun if you don't ride!
-Camille Anthony
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Available Now!
Tiressa just wanted a drink. After weeks of lonely space, one breakdown after another, and delays of every kind, she wants to relax for a few hours while the Nebula storm passes. When she orders a White Russian straight up, what she gets isn't at all what she expected!
As a spy so deep undercover only the Supreme Commander knows his mission, Yuri Dubnikov fully expects to be executed. He's pleasantly surprised to land in the hands of a luscious woman, instead. If he can win Tiressa's trust, he may have a chance to save his mission. And his life.
Fortunately, Tiressa's as drawn to Yuri as he is to her. Their chemistry, when they collide, will be explosive.
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