2011 is going to find me sitting cozy with my sister, my nephew and Miss Bianca this year in Connecticut. I made the last minute choice to fly up here so I wouldn't be alone! YAY! Upside, I'm no longer blue and weepy. Downside, I'm not going to make my deadline because it's impossible to work in this situation. Oh and to make it worse my power supply crapped out on me and my backup was at home. Anyway, I have a rare peaceful few hours by myself so I am going to get some work done but I thought I would drop you all a quick note to let you know I'm fine and the world of the Nightwalkers is moving along, albeit a bit slowly. I have so many surprises in store with this new book! My new assistant Natalie is a major fangirl and she's gotten some sneak peeks and she's squealing over the parts she's been shown (but wait until she sees what I haven't told her about yet!!)
Anyway I wanted to check in and let you know I was not alone for Christmas and won't be for New Years and my general mental health is very good...except for being stressed about this deadline. I don't want anyone to get mad at me! I'm working on it! It'll happen! I swear!
Surgery is scheduled for January sixth. That's going to put a crimp in things as well. But on the plus side it will force me to stay in one place long enough to focus on my work. Then after book six of the Nightwalkers it's on to book three of the Three Worlds series. Then...well who knows where I'll go next. ;) But I'll be sure to let you know. :)
But enough about me. Let's talk about you. I hope you are well and happy. I hope you are content and entertained. I hope those you love are equally so. I hope your soldiers come home safe and sound, that your parents' health improves and that the contentious jerks in your life suddenly buy a clue and decide to back off. I hope your children are safe and sound. I hope those they come in contact with are good souls with all the best intentions. I hope your health improves, that your medication is paid for and that you can more easily make ends meet this year. I hope this is the year you can finally take that special vacation or even just put a little something extra away in savings. I hope you get a nice fat, juicy tax return, or maybe even enough to take someone out for a nice fat juicy steak at a really nice place where they treat you with kindness and respect.
Whatever it is that you wish for, that you need or think you need, I truly hope this new year brings it to you.
And...
erm...
I hope you buy my books. :P
Hehehe.
Hugs and Kitties
Jacki
Friday, December 31, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
A long overdue update!
RELEASES MARCH 22 2011
LOOK!! New cover!!
RELEASES JULY 2011
Okay I am a naughty author. I've been slacking on my blogs again. Back to back deadlines have a way of doing that to a gal. Let's start with important information.
A. I am NOT hosting the Authors After Dark weekend this year. Stella has gone off on her own and is doing her own thing. I may or may not have something to do with it in the future, but that's all kind of up in the air. I am not on the list of attending authors and right now I am not certain if I am attending that convention. I can tell you this, she has great stuff planned at a tremendous looking venue. I am going to try to attend but I am already slated to attend RomCon in Denver and RT Booklovers Convention in LA. I am really trying to focus on conventions in areas I have never been before so my West Coast and Midwest/Mountain area readers have a chance to meet me and get their books signed by me. So if you are planning to attend the AAD Convention ONLY because of me, you might want to hold off. If I'm only a sliver of your considerations, then by all means, have at it. Stella throws a hell of a party and Larissa Ione is her Master of Ceremonies this year.
B. I am writing book six of the NIGHTWALKERS series as we speak. It IS Jasmine's story. It will be released in November 2011...but that's AFTER a novella in the NIGHTWALKER world is released in the October 2011 release of the anthology SUPERNATURAL with, once again, Larissa Ione. What's it about? Well, let me just say...did you ever wonder what happened that Samhain between Kane and Corrine? Well, your wondering will now be satisfied. :)
*SPOILER ALERT* *SPOILER ALERT* *SPOILER ALERT*
If you've never read the NIGHTWALKERS or SHADOWDWELLERS series or are in the middle of them and don't want things given away (and your author hates it when you cheat, btw) everything in part C isn't for you! Skip this part! I promise not to say anything of interest to you!
C. I haven't decided on the title of the Jasmine story yet. I am still torn between titling it JASMINE and titling it after the male lead, keeping in tradition with the series. Those of you who follow me on Facebook know I've been tossing this back and forth with my editor/publisher. I'm sure they are going to want to do what they think SELLS best...or what will make it most readily apparent to my readers that this is 1. a NIGHTWALKER book and 2. Jasmine's story. We know you've been waiting for a long time for this story. And we know Jasmine is only part of what you've been waiting for. *SPOILERS* (I really mean it this time, if you are in the middle of the series, don't read this shit!) What about that bitch RUTH? What about Damien and Syreena, are they gonna be able to have kids?? And what ever happens to our prophesied children? And what about all that bad black magic? What about the unheard of idea of natural born witches being good? What happened when Valera did her magical mystery tour? Or has she even done it yet when this story begins? (Spoiler/sneak peek for those who HAVE read both those series) YES, it has happened already when this story picks up. I know, you're shocked. I NEVER give up information on my stories/universes. But hey, it's the Yuletide season. Consider it my gift to you. :)
D. My personal life. That's right, I'm about to talk about all that personal, hairy shit that's all about me. I am going to SHOW MY ASS (possibly even literally) so if you have a problem with that, don't read this part either! *eyeroll* I am officially all healed up from my circumferential abdominoplasty. And I look HAWT! I'm sorry, but I can't be humble. I have a flat belly! I weigh 142 lbs! Neither of those things have happened to me since I was 14 years old!! So maybe my tits are a little smaller than I expected (I call them tittles *thanks Peanut!*) but I'll take it! The next surgery, the thighplasty, is going to be in early January. I'd like to say the exact date, but the featherhead in charge of scheduling hasn't gotten back to me about it. I keep calling and she keeps swearing she's looking at my file right that second and waiting for the hospital to get back to her. Apparently everyone wants to schedule surgery before the end of the year because they don't want to pay a new deductible...yes but, I don't care about deductibles I am paying for this myself and I am not trying to get scheduled before the end of the year I want to do this AFTER the first of the year. (I do have a book to write after all) Then she pulls the babies with broken faces card on me. How they are the only surgeons who do emergent surgery on babies with broken faces and that bumps other surgeries. Well yes, that's great and, aww, those poor babies. But how does that affect your ability to schedule a surgery a month from now? A surgery you've been working on scheduling for the past three weeks? And why would you even bring up the babies if you weren't trying to keep me from going postal on you because you are aware that after three weeks of calls and waiting I have every right to go postal? After all, what kind of a bitch would i have to be to get mad now that you told me about the babies?? Well, I was nice because no, I'm not any kind of bitch who can get mad after hearing about the babies. But I mention it because I am very aware she was trying to play me and I chose to be nice in spite of that. Anyway...I'm sure I'll keep you posted.
Christmas is really hard this year. As some of you know, I have a foster daughter named Bianca. She stays with me every summer and every Christmas vacation. As a result of her behaviors this summer, I decided not to have her come this Christmas. I guess it's an effort to teach her a lesson. That she can't use people who love her for money. That the value of our relationship has nothing to do with toys and expensive bullshit. Perhaps it's my own fault. I spoiled her. I wanted to give her everything I never had when I was a kid...so she didn't appreciate any of it because it came so easy. Suddenly it was an expectation. It was almost like you could hear her saying, 'Yo bitch, cough it up and get me that.' It fact, 'Get me that.' was said more than once. The 'Yo bitch' was almost implied.
Anyway, she isn't coming. I will send her a few things, but nothing like the lush cornucopia of gifts she is used to. But it sucks.It feels like I've cut off my nose to spite my face. IT really sucks that there's not going to be a kid here to get excited with, to bake cookies with, to wake up to stuffed stockings with, to act goofy with...to drink hot cocoa with. I'm kinda all alone. No, not kinda. Exactly all alone. Money doesn't mean shit. I'd rather be poor with a Charlie Brown tree and a little girl who loves me hugging me around my neck telling me she loves me.
So Christmas sucks this year.
In other news, I hired a fan girl to be my new assistant. Her name is Natalie and she is all about the Jacki Frank universes. LOL. Well...she cheats on me with Stephanie Meyer and Sherrilyn Kenyon, but that's okay. I cheat on me too. Heh.
Hey you know how they say sugar will kill you? Well sugar is going to kill me. I worked hard to get skinny, but I've been sneaking a lot of candy lately. Now, I take some heavy duty meds at night and they make me fall asleep mid sentence or mid-Mafia Wars. The other night I was sneaking from my stash of Good N Plentys and apparently fell asleep mid chew. A couple of hours later I wake up and start coughing my head off. Apparently I aspirated some candy. Yes, I breathed in a Good N Plenty. All day yesterday, through yoga class and cooking dinner, every time I coughed I tasted licorice. My sister and I had this image of me going to the E.R. and trying to explain this...or them taking an X-ray of my lungs and trying to figure out what that capsule shaped thing was in the right lung...my housekeeper Donna was not amused by the idea of finding my dead in bed from an act of candy stupidity.
SO I mean it this time...as soon as I eat all the rest f this candy...I'm not buying any more. Well, no more Good N Plenty for a while that's for sure. My therapist says I am a sugar addict. That I need to twelve step it. She's right. I admit it. That's the first step. The next one...isn;t the next one 'Eat all the candy in the house'?
Ack.
Anyway. Enough of all that. I have to get back to work. Laters all!
Hugs and Kitties
Jacki
Thursday, October 28, 2010
DRINK OF ME
Tuesday was the release of my new stand alone title DRINK OF ME. And please, let me clarify 'stand alone'. That means it is fully intended to be a one off title. There are no cliffhangers, nothing unresolved. Everyone will be completely satisfied from one cover to the next. Of course, I know you people...you're all gonna fall in love with this group of guys and you're going to start pestering me for more books and to make a series out of it. Well...I have learned to never saw never, so let's just say 'not at this time' and leave it at that, shall we? Heh. But really, don't you remember the good old days of non-series titles? Authors had to make up completely new worlds in every book they wrote? I kind of like that option in my repertoire. I like my series too, don't get me wrong. Where would the world be without NIGHTWALKERS and SHADOWDWELLERS??? But I think we all have room in us for the variety of the classic one off story.
DRINK OF ME takes place in an alternate world and alternate universe where things are very different, pre-industrial, and far from being unified and diplomatic. But I bring you into the world of the Sánge who are looked on universally as the scourge of their peers. Their strange practices make them feared and reviled. But you will see something very different from what those others see and I think the Sánge might just grow on you. :)
Here's your blurb:
DRINK ME
In a world where emotion can be a deadly weapon, one slight, battered runaway holds the key to a dark and twisted enigma…
Drink of me, she whispers, her silver eyes trusting, pleading. What female dares speak such words to one of the Sánge? His people are scorned by every race for their fierce sensuality, their fearful rituals. And as Prime, Reule is the most telepathically gifted of them all.
But nothing has prepared him for the intensity of emotion radiating from the outlander rescued by his Pack. Terrified, tormented, but beautiful beyond measure, Mystique shatters his legendary control. As she reaches for him in the steamy heat of the healing baths, he knows this blind need can have but one end…
In blood, in knowledge, in ecstasy.
On a more personal note, I had my circumferential abdominoplasty...also known as getting sawed in half...lol...well, almost. I came through super well and I look awesome!! I will post pictures after the hairiest scars are a little more healed. I have before and after...I have to get the courage up to show my flabby ass on here. LOL. Now all that's left is the thigh-plasty which rumor has it is even more difficult than getting sawed in half, and then my arms. I will then have the body of a 20 year old. Too bad my knees and ankles are already shot to shit. OTherwise I might go jogging in sexy shorts in the park or something I've always seen slender women do. Hah! Someone told me I'm too skinny! My GF tells me to go eat a fucking sandwich. :P I am eating Halloween chocolate unfortunately so I might just have a problem. *ulp* I wish I was allowed to exercise to burn it off, but the doctor says that's a no no for a little while longer.
Oh GREAT NEWS!! I am being published in the UK at last at last!! They will be printing BOOK SIX of the NIGHTWALKERS series in tandem with the US! Then they are going to go back and release UK versions of the series. :) I will keep you posted on the covers.
Anyway, that's it. I am constantly on Facebook holding giveaways and contests and such. Join my fan page and you will have a chance! Although I make you work for it with sneaky trivia. :)
Hugs and kitties
Jacki
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Debut of my first JAX book, THE BID
So yesterday was the debut of my first JAX book, an erotica paranormal/ fantasy/ futuristic romance called THE BID published under the Aphrodisia line at Kensington Publications. I really love this story. It's kind of a twist on the kidnapped and sold into slavery idea. It's also pretty steamy. I didn't really see why it might not fly in mass market format...I mean Rapture and the short story in Nocturnal both burned up the pages. But I like the idea of freeing myself up in future books from the conventional relationship format. There's lots of sexy possibilities in a non-standard relationship. But be assured, I'm all about the romance and the love and the happily ever after. No matter what you will always find that in my books.
We have established a JAX fan page on Facebook and you never know what I'll be giving away so it might be a good idea for you to sign up. Plus it can keep you up to date on all thing erotic from me.
The Authors After Dark 2010 event was a wild success. Don't take my word for it though. Go to the Authors After Dark blog and see for yourself. Stella Price has posted a blog and there are great pictures at Larissas Bookish Life, and other blogger sites. I have a few of my own but I am going to post them on Monday (ideally), the day before my surgery.
That's the other thing going on in my life. I am having my circumferential abdominoplasty on Tuesday. Also known as a lower body lift. Also known as a big ouch. I had hoped to have my second Three Worlds book done before then and am still working to reach that goal, but we will have to see how it turns out. So if you are wondering why I have been so quiet lately, there is your answer. Deadline!!!
I hired a new assistant. His name is George. So far so good. He seems to be fairly competent, which is a huge compliment coming from me. Lol. So if I haven't answered your emails there is hope for me yet! I do try my best, but since I have such a crappy memory... It goes something like this. Read email. Come up with reply in head. Go to hit reply button. Dust mote catches my attention. Have sudden urge to see how much rainfall they had in Belize. Ten days Later....
Such is life in Jacki's brain. Ah well. I shudder to think of how many awesome ideas were lost or don't end up in my books because of those damn random dust motes.
But they do fall in such a pretty way....
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Guest Blogger and Bookmate Kate Douglas visits!
Kate Douglas was kind enough to send me a few words about our co-release, NOCTURNAL, which is hitting the shelves TODAY!!! Thought I would share with all of you!
Hi Jacki—many apologies for sending this so late—I had planned to write it earlier this evening when I suddenly realized I had to be at a scheduled Aphrodisia Authors chat, and after the chat I started working on a proposal for a new series and had one of those OB-CRS moments, aka old broad can’t remember shit...
Anyway, today is the day! Nocturnal started popping up in stores a week ago, but it’s not officially on the shelves until today, and I’m really excited to see this one out and about. First, it’s very cool to share a spot with you—while we’ve both written for different imprints at Kensington, it appears we’re both guilty of crossing over to test the waters in a new sub-genre. Congratulations on your new Aphrodisia title coming out next month! I’m really looking forward to seeing just what kind of trouble Jax can get you into. Sometimes those alter egos can REALLY raise a ruckus!
For me, the switch was in the opposite direction when I sold The DemonSlayers series for the Zebra imprint. Still sexy, but not as over-the-top as my Wolf Tales, and really a lot of fun. The first book, DemonFire, released in February—a day I celebrated by running my truck into the side of a mountain and just about totaling the poor baby out. Mountain one...pickup zero. I’ve decided I’d much rather celebrate the release of my new books without any personal carnage or damage to expensive machinery. Therefore, I stayed home the day HellFire released last week. Much less costly that way! Today I intend to do the same. I’ll do my chatting about Crystal Dreams, my story in Nocturnal, online, thank you very much.
This was such a fun story to write. The muse really smiled on me and I wrote the entire thing in about three days. Once I had my heroine—Marigold Moonbeam Schwartz—the entire story fell into place. Wish they were all that easy! Mari is a straight-laced banker who’s just lost her job and is headed home to Evergreen from San Francisco. It has NOT been a good week. Besides getting laid-off, she’s caught her live-in boyfriend sacked up with another woman, discovered he’s spent most of her money, and now she’s got to take care of her mother’s crystal shop while her father recuperates from surgery.
Mari has a rather uncomfortable relationship with her parents—they’re old hippies who, she thinks, have smoked one too many joints. Her mother believes she’s a witch, and Mari doesn’t swallow any of that garbage—until she’s attacked by demons and rescued by a seven foot tall Lemurian warrior wielding a crystal sword. Life sort of takes a big flip-flop just shy of reality after Darius saves her life, but Mari definitely rolls with the punches, even though she’s in as much danger of losing her heart as she is of losing her life.
Finding out Mom and Dad aren’t so crazy after all is the least of her discoveries—finding out she’s a more powerful witch than dear old Mom is a hell of a shocker. If you’re at all interested in reading a bit, I’ve got the first chapter posted at http://www.katedouglas.com/home.htm Just click on the cover. If you go to www.katedouglas.com/eroticromance, you’ll find excerpts of my Wolf Tales and Sexy Beast stories, but over 18 only, please.
The series so far is DemonFire, HellFire and then Nocturnal/Crystal Dreams. StarFire releases in April 2011.
And thank you, Jacki, for letting me get a word in on your blog. It’s much appreciated.
Kate Douglas
www.facebook.com/katedouglas.authorpage
www.twitter.com/wolftales
And thank you Kate for coming to visit!
In other news, I'm in desperate need of an assistant. I need to organize my emails, blogs, guest appearances, a mailing list etc. Someone who can work the online scene, tell me where to go and when to go there, etc. I just can't keep track of it all anymore. Holding contests, mailing books out after people win them, mailing ARCs to reviewers, chasing down pirates...HELP! The problem is, how exactly does one find someone to do these things? As we all know I SUCK at choosing people to clean my own home (finally landed a gem! TG!!) I am apparently a poor judge of character. So, I need help, but I don't trust myself to find anyone good.
*Looks around for her funny white coat with the 360 degree arms*
Hugs and Kitties
Jacki
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
NOCTURNAL!!
It's more than the way I live my life, it's the name of my latest release!! You all have been hounding me for new Jacki Frank, well I am going to overwhelm you with it! I have three books coming out in three consecutive months! ROCK ON! And then in February Ballentine releases the first in my new Three Worlds series, a fun scifi/fantasy romance with elite buffed out soldiers (HOORAH!!) and exotic aliens with extraordinary powers.
But that's then. Let's start with the now.
I am so thrilled to be sharing this anthology with the wickedly naughty Kate Douglas. She can write sex and lust and the paranormal like nobody's business. I also get to meet the adorable Jess Haines at my Authors After Dark event (only 16 days away!!) We'll be signing copies of the book together at the Harmon Meadow Holiday Inn on Saturday in New Jersey and the signing is open to everyone so PLEASE come and visit with me. I'd be very excited to meet you.
But let's talk about my story in this anthology.
Amara has been taken...stolen from her normal life because no one would miss her...because she would make the perfect lab rat. She is held captive, experimented on, tormented with captivity and the fear of the unknown. What are they going to do to her next? Then, the day she meets a fresh lab rat, a sexy beast of a cop, they are taken away for the experiment to end all experiments. When they come out on the other side of it they find themselves drawn to each other with animalistic need so ferocious it cannot be denied. The question is, where will the savagery end? Will they end up tearing each other apart?
This book releases September 7th. (officially anyway)
Then there's my new JAX book. I've been talking about it for ages and I am delighted to say RT Book Reviews gave THE BID four stars! WOOT!
Isn't this the hottest cover EVER? I can't get over how right Aphrodisia did me with this cover. I have never had such a perfect depiction of my characters before. It was like the artist was right in my head. Let me know if you agree when it comes out. This book releases September 28th.
Then there's DRINK OF ME.
This book release October 26th.
I thought I'd share the first few pages with you cuz you're all so awesome.
Sorrow.
It beat at him like a relentless drum, throbbing through his mind and vibrating into his soul until he felt it burning in his body as though it were his own. Stunned by the intensity of the intrusion, Reule actually hesitated several moments, distracting himself at the worst possible time. He felt the purity of the devastating emotion shuddering through him. Too pure, and too disturbing, Reule realized very quickly as he flung up well-practiced and powerful mental barricades, the imposing walls blotting out most of the wild despair that had stained his concentration.
Careless of him to let something like that intrude on such a crucial moment. Lines of disconcertion etched themselves into his forehead and around his mouth. The source of that unsettling intrusion was a mystery. It tempted him. But that, he realized, might very well be the point. It could be intentional bait.
Reule dismissed the idea straight away, confident he could tell the difference between deception and honesty, and while he’d never felt such a scope of sadness before in his life, it had been brutally honest. Pushing it all away to focus back on his goal of the moment, he lifted his head and sought the scents of the others, marking their positions in silence as they kept their mental communication minimalized. Their prey would sense their approach if they picked up on the power of their pursuers’ thoughts flinging back and forth along telepathic channels between them.
Reule marked the identifications and locations of the other males of the Pack. Rye, to the north along the stone wall in the underbrush. Darcio, to his rear by several yards, low against the trunk of a thick and ancient oak. Delano, of course, on point ahead of them and moving slowly along the perimeter of the hostile territory they sought to enter. Reule focused next on the house settled deep in the darkness, concentrating until his vision altered to pierce the veil of the brick walls, outlining the greenish-white blobs of movement that indicated life in one form or another. It was easy to differentiate their target; seated centrally and surrounded by others like bees buzzing over their precious queen. All of this activity took place on the second floor.
Reule turned his attention to Delano, watching the sleek speed the male used to breech the property line. In concert, the rest of the Pack moved forward, their senses sharply attuned to the rhythm it would take to succeed at their task. He could have closed his eyes and still known that Rye leapt the stone wall with ease, and that Darcio kept every step timed to match perfectly with his own as Reule advanced.
Each member of the Pack neared the structure with caution. Reule crouched low on the balls of his feet, sharply alert, and he became as still and invisible as shadows. His stillness was timed perfectly. His target came through the near door, so close he nearly tripped over Reule. When the unfortunate crossed in front of him, Reule struck with the speed of a cobra. His fangs exploded into full, glorious length as he attacked, but they wouldn’t taste of this repugnant creature. He could control the impulse, sparing himself the disgust of such an experience.
Instead, it was his extending claws that struck, and even that was conservative. Reule grabbed his victim over his mouth, jerking his head back and puncturing his shoulder with needle sharp nails right through his shirt, the cotton fabric no protection from the invasion. Reule’s muscles flexed as his prey struggled and fought, but they both knew it was a fruitless effort. Once the paralytic tipping his nails broke beyond the skin, it was only a matter of time. Still, Reule held him to keep him quiet until the drug took effect, using his mental power to stifle his victim’s so he could raise no alarms. When the male finally became deadweight in his hold, he released him. The body of his enemy dropped to the ground like a sack of rocks, thudding sickly as bone impacted earth. Reule kicked him away in contempt. The toxin wouldn’t kill him, but if Reule didn’t like what he found when he entered the house, he’d be back to finish the job.
Reule straightened and eased towards the door. He was vigilant for other stragglers as he sought for the heat and motion of others. They were all upstairs in that central room, and now Reule understood why. He heard shouts of laughter and cajoling, cheering and jeering, and he suddenly realized why there were insufficient guards staged to protect the place. He snarled low in loathing and the sound was echoed by his Shadow, Darcio. The others didn’t respond, but they felt Reule’s rage and he felt their agreeing emotion.
And that opened him up to the sorrow once more.
It slammed into him, stronger than before; a devastating sadness that stole his breath away and nearly stopped his heart. Chills rushed up under his flesh until it crawled with agonizing emotional response. Never, in all his many years, had he felt anything like it. He’d shared thoughts and emotions with his Pack for all of his existence, and never had they, his family, been able to project such powerful emotion into him. If he couldn’t feel such things from his family, who could force it upon him? More, what caused such agony? He was the most powerful, the most sensitive when it came to sensing these things, but surely one of his caste had felt deep, abiding pain before! What made this so incredibly intense to him? How did it invade him so easily in spite of his skill and power to resist such things?
Reule tried to shake off the sensations even as he fell back unsteadily against a near wall. Darcio leapt forward, instantly at his side when he sensed his distress. Reule quickly fended off his friend’s concern, recovering and pushing the alien anguish hard away from himself so he could project confidence and strength to the Pack. They were being distracted in dangerous territory and he’d be responsible if any of them were injured because of it. Reule silently realigned their attention with a powerful emanation and he felt them draw back to target swiftly. Only Darcio, who had seen him falter physically, hesitated. Reule ignored his concern and reached for the door.
I hope that puts me on your MUST BUY list. ;)
Hugs and Kitties
Jacki Frank
But that's then. Let's start with the now.
I am so thrilled to be sharing this anthology with the wickedly naughty Kate Douglas. She can write sex and lust and the paranormal like nobody's business. I also get to meet the adorable Jess Haines at my Authors After Dark event (only 16 days away!!) We'll be signing copies of the book together at the Harmon Meadow Holiday Inn on Saturday in New Jersey and the signing is open to everyone so PLEASE come and visit with me. I'd be very excited to meet you.
But let's talk about my story in this anthology.
Amara has been taken...stolen from her normal life because no one would miss her...because she would make the perfect lab rat. She is held captive, experimented on, tormented with captivity and the fear of the unknown. What are they going to do to her next? Then, the day she meets a fresh lab rat, a sexy beast of a cop, they are taken away for the experiment to end all experiments. When they come out on the other side of it they find themselves drawn to each other with animalistic need so ferocious it cannot be denied. The question is, where will the savagery end? Will they end up tearing each other apart?
This book releases September 7th. (officially anyway)
Then there's my new JAX book. I've been talking about it for ages and I am delighted to say RT Book Reviews gave THE BID four stars! WOOT!
Isn't this the hottest cover EVER? I can't get over how right Aphrodisia did me with this cover. I have never had such a perfect depiction of my characters before. It was like the artist was right in my head. Let me know if you agree when it comes out. This book releases September 28th.
Then there's DRINK OF ME.
This book release October 26th.
I thought I'd share the first few pages with you cuz you're all so awesome.
Sorrow.
It beat at him like a relentless drum, throbbing through his mind and vibrating into his soul until he felt it burning in his body as though it were his own. Stunned by the intensity of the intrusion, Reule actually hesitated several moments, distracting himself at the worst possible time. He felt the purity of the devastating emotion shuddering through him. Too pure, and too disturbing, Reule realized very quickly as he flung up well-practiced and powerful mental barricades, the imposing walls blotting out most of the wild despair that had stained his concentration.
Careless of him to let something like that intrude on such a crucial moment. Lines of disconcertion etched themselves into his forehead and around his mouth. The source of that unsettling intrusion was a mystery. It tempted him. But that, he realized, might very well be the point. It could be intentional bait.
Reule dismissed the idea straight away, confident he could tell the difference between deception and honesty, and while he’d never felt such a scope of sadness before in his life, it had been brutally honest. Pushing it all away to focus back on his goal of the moment, he lifted his head and sought the scents of the others, marking their positions in silence as they kept their mental communication minimalized. Their prey would sense their approach if they picked up on the power of their pursuers’ thoughts flinging back and forth along telepathic channels between them.
Reule marked the identifications and locations of the other males of the Pack. Rye, to the north along the stone wall in the underbrush. Darcio, to his rear by several yards, low against the trunk of a thick and ancient oak. Delano, of course, on point ahead of them and moving slowly along the perimeter of the hostile territory they sought to enter. Reule focused next on the house settled deep in the darkness, concentrating until his vision altered to pierce the veil of the brick walls, outlining the greenish-white blobs of movement that indicated life in one form or another. It was easy to differentiate their target; seated centrally and surrounded by others like bees buzzing over their precious queen. All of this activity took place on the second floor.
Reule turned his attention to Delano, watching the sleek speed the male used to breech the property line. In concert, the rest of the Pack moved forward, their senses sharply attuned to the rhythm it would take to succeed at their task. He could have closed his eyes and still known that Rye leapt the stone wall with ease, and that Darcio kept every step timed to match perfectly with his own as Reule advanced.
Each member of the Pack neared the structure with caution. Reule crouched low on the balls of his feet, sharply alert, and he became as still and invisible as shadows. His stillness was timed perfectly. His target came through the near door, so close he nearly tripped over Reule. When the unfortunate crossed in front of him, Reule struck with the speed of a cobra. His fangs exploded into full, glorious length as he attacked, but they wouldn’t taste of this repugnant creature. He could control the impulse, sparing himself the disgust of such an experience.
Instead, it was his extending claws that struck, and even that was conservative. Reule grabbed his victim over his mouth, jerking his head back and puncturing his shoulder with needle sharp nails right through his shirt, the cotton fabric no protection from the invasion. Reule’s muscles flexed as his prey struggled and fought, but they both knew it was a fruitless effort. Once the paralytic tipping his nails broke beyond the skin, it was only a matter of time. Still, Reule held him to keep him quiet until the drug took effect, using his mental power to stifle his victim’s so he could raise no alarms. When the male finally became deadweight in his hold, he released him. The body of his enemy dropped to the ground like a sack of rocks, thudding sickly as bone impacted earth. Reule kicked him away in contempt. The toxin wouldn’t kill him, but if Reule didn’t like what he found when he entered the house, he’d be back to finish the job.
Reule straightened and eased towards the door. He was vigilant for other stragglers as he sought for the heat and motion of others. They were all upstairs in that central room, and now Reule understood why. He heard shouts of laughter and cajoling, cheering and jeering, and he suddenly realized why there were insufficient guards staged to protect the place. He snarled low in loathing and the sound was echoed by his Shadow, Darcio. The others didn’t respond, but they felt Reule’s rage and he felt their agreeing emotion.
And that opened him up to the sorrow once more.
It slammed into him, stronger than before; a devastating sadness that stole his breath away and nearly stopped his heart. Chills rushed up under his flesh until it crawled with agonizing emotional response. Never, in all his many years, had he felt anything like it. He’d shared thoughts and emotions with his Pack for all of his existence, and never had they, his family, been able to project such powerful emotion into him. If he couldn’t feel such things from his family, who could force it upon him? More, what caused such agony? He was the most powerful, the most sensitive when it came to sensing these things, but surely one of his caste had felt deep, abiding pain before! What made this so incredibly intense to him? How did it invade him so easily in spite of his skill and power to resist such things?
Reule tried to shake off the sensations even as he fell back unsteadily against a near wall. Darcio leapt forward, instantly at his side when he sensed his distress. Reule quickly fended off his friend’s concern, recovering and pushing the alien anguish hard away from himself so he could project confidence and strength to the Pack. They were being distracted in dangerous territory and he’d be responsible if any of them were injured because of it. Reule silently realigned their attention with a powerful emanation and he felt them draw back to target swiftly. Only Darcio, who had seen him falter physically, hesitated. Reule ignored his concern and reached for the door.
I hope that puts me on your MUST BUY list. ;)
Hugs and Kitties
Jacki Frank
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Had to share.
Okay, so I'm a bitch. We all know this. But I have proof. 'Fan' letter received via my website (and I left the spelling and grammar as is...for effect) "I purchased the book Ecstacy in a local store because the back cover exerpt seemed interesting. Initially I enjoyed the book, but was soon quite discusted at the far too graphic sex scenes that were described. I was unable to finish any more of the book. I find it unfortunate that your book included this type of unecessary scenarios, as the basic story ;line seemed so interesting." My reply. "I guess this means you won't be buying me anymore. I write a lot of sex. Tons of it. The more graphic the better. I do love my fucking.Cest la Vie, chere. Hugs and Kitties Jacki Frank"
Like I said. I'm a bitch. ;)
Could have been worse...I could have been...you know...RUDE. I mean seriously. This is what i do. This is what I am good at and how i make a living. Do I go into the restaurant you waitress at and feel the need to say...you know, you would be a really good waitress...except for that whole thing where you serve people. All that serving...I just don't see the point! No. You know what I do? I don't go back if someone's 'serving' bothers me. I don't feel it necessary to tell them that the way they earn their way in the world just doesn't suit me AT ALL.
Bitch, please!
And that sound you just heard? That's my agent an editors collectively fainting.
Hugs and Kitties
JAcki
PS: If she thinks I'm bad...maybe I should send her a Lora Leigh book...for comparison. Hehehe.
Like I said. I'm a bitch. ;)
Could have been worse...I could have been...you know...RUDE. I mean seriously. This is what i do. This is what I am good at and how i make a living. Do I go into the restaurant you waitress at and feel the need to say...you know, you would be a really good waitress...except for that whole thing where you serve people. All that serving...I just don't see the point! No. You know what I do? I don't go back if someone's 'serving' bothers me. I don't feel it necessary to tell them that the way they earn their way in the world just doesn't suit me AT ALL.
Bitch, please!
And that sound you just heard? That's my agent an editors collectively fainting.
Hugs and Kitties
JAcki
PS: If she thinks I'm bad...maybe I should send her a Lora Leigh book...for comparison. Hehehe.
Monday, August 23, 2010
I'm sorry....say what??
You know, some things can make a bad day good. Like writing. It turned my Monday blues around and I was feeling peppy and zippy.
And some things can...
So I go to get my nails done. In a touch of irony just as I sit down at the table of the nail salon (I had never been there before) they are running a story on the news about how a nail salon in California charges a 5 dollar surcharge for anyone over 200 lbs.
I'm sorry...what? I must have missed the part in anatomy class where they tell you that fat people have bigger nails than everyone else. Or that there is a significant difference in the acreage of pudgy pods versus slender tiny Cinderella steppers. Therefore, it must take longer to do a pedicure. Or a manicure. Now granted, your feet ARE bigger when you are overweight. But that changes your shoe size. Not your nail size.
So they proceed to have a debate as to whether or not this is discrimination or does the salon have the right to do this.
YOU HAVE TO DEBATE THIS??? WHY is this even a question?? Of course it's discrimination! Jim Crow is dancing in his grave! What if it was a five dollar surcharge for being black? Would we be having this debate? No! We'd be fining those people, arresting them...whatever! The fact is, the woman was being charged for the way she looked. Period.
So the guy taking my polish off turns around to the girl behind him, laughs out loud and says, "That's a great idea! We should do that!" (Charge 5 bux for fat people).
Well. Now. I jerked my hands out of his and said, "That's not even funny! Don't even joke like that." Although, I think he was kinda serious. "I used to weigh 365lbs and I don't find that funny at all!"
He gives me that look that most people give me. Shock. You? 365lbs? Oh come on. You're kidding, right?
"365 pounds," I reiterate. He takes my hand and says, "Sorry, I didn't know what they were talking about. I made a mistake."
His mistake was taking a look around and seeing only slender people in the shop and thinking everyone would laugh with him...or agree with him. He knew exactly what they were talking about. He meant every word.
I took my hands back, got up and walked out.
Now I'm trying to keep it from ruining all the rest of my day.
And some things can...
So I go to get my nails done. In a touch of irony just as I sit down at the table of the nail salon (I had never been there before) they are running a story on the news about how a nail salon in California charges a 5 dollar surcharge for anyone over 200 lbs.
I'm sorry...what? I must have missed the part in anatomy class where they tell you that fat people have bigger nails than everyone else. Or that there is a significant difference in the acreage of pudgy pods versus slender tiny Cinderella steppers. Therefore, it must take longer to do a pedicure. Or a manicure. Now granted, your feet ARE bigger when you are overweight. But that changes your shoe size. Not your nail size.
So they proceed to have a debate as to whether or not this is discrimination or does the salon have the right to do this.
YOU HAVE TO DEBATE THIS??? WHY is this even a question?? Of course it's discrimination! Jim Crow is dancing in his grave! What if it was a five dollar surcharge for being black? Would we be having this debate? No! We'd be fining those people, arresting them...whatever! The fact is, the woman was being charged for the way she looked. Period.
So the guy taking my polish off turns around to the girl behind him, laughs out loud and says, "That's a great idea! We should do that!" (Charge 5 bux for fat people).
Well. Now. I jerked my hands out of his and said, "That's not even funny! Don't even joke like that." Although, I think he was kinda serious. "I used to weigh 365lbs and I don't find that funny at all!"
He gives me that look that most people give me. Shock. You? 365lbs? Oh come on. You're kidding, right?
"365 pounds," I reiterate. He takes my hand and says, "Sorry, I didn't know what they were talking about. I made a mistake."
His mistake was taking a look around and seeing only slender people in the shop and thinking everyone would laugh with him...or agree with him. He knew exactly what they were talking about. He meant every word.
I took my hands back, got up and walked out.
Now I'm trying to keep it from ruining all the rest of my day.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
All Aboard!
Well, for those of you who don't follow me on Facebook, life has been...interesting. Who was it that said something like 'May you live in interesting times...' While a less educated person may perceive this as a blessing, it is in fact meant to be a curse. If someone says that to you, they are wishing you a life full of upheaval and chaos. Well, it's safe to say someone slapped me upside the head with the 'interesting times' curse. There was the whole bit with my daughter (I'm sorry, blood or no blood, hurt or no hurt, this child is now and will always be my daughter.) I won't rehash that except to say she's been home for two weeks and the only reason I know she made it off the plane alive is because I saw pictures of her at the fair two days later on Facebook. (I had to go looking...it wasn't as though they were shared with me directly or even indirectly.)
Around about this time I realized that my luggage had been robbed on the way home from Hawaii. ALL of my shoes (cept my flip flops and a pair that had been zipped up in hiding), my Adidas Sneakers, all my Sephora makeup, and my prescription Versace glasses. All my skin care products (ladies, do I have to tell you how much that can add up to? I think not.) I wrote to U. S. AIRWAYs ( did you get that all right? U S AIRWAYS. Let me say it again...U S AIRWAYS) the moment I realized it had happened. Do let me share with you their response: (Since they were ever so polite about it.)
Ms. XXXX,
Thank you for contacting the Central Baggage Resolution Office at US
Airways.
Regrettably, when a customer receives his/her property and does not
report the occurrence of this type of baggage irregularity within 24
hours, we cannot honor any subsequent claim.
We appreciate this opportunity to address your email.
Respectfully,
Clay Hues
Central Baggage Resolution Office
US Airways
That unexplained smoke you saw on the horizon yesterday? That was coming out of my ears. I wrote back. *smirk* I was ever. so. polite. I swear. No, really. But I did sign the response: One Very Pissed Off Woman Who Spends A Lot Of Her Time In The Public Eye. *smirk* Let's see how polite they are this time around. I do hate to throw my weight around (since there's so little of it anymore) but sometimes, man, you just gotta show them that they don't have all the power in this world. I mean I had to PAY to have the luggage on the flight in the first damn place, and then they let it get ROBBED??? The least my money can do is protect what's in the thing! I mean, UPS does it. Why can't they??
Then I stood up and broke my damn foot. (Only I could possibly manage this.) I had been writing for about an hour an a half (good on me!! I'd been having trouble finding the muse for months, but boy was it flowing that day! Deadlines can be very inspiring!) and apparently my foot fell asleep. I say apparently because there was no tingle or pins or needles. It just clocked out. I didn't even realize it was numb. So I stood up (kay, so I more likely flung myself up out of my chair. I never do things slowly anymore! Getting skinny gives you bounce!) One foot worked and the other folded and I unknowingly put all my weight on it (all what, 147 lbs of me? I mean c'mon! How did this not happen 175 lbs ago??) and heard a loud snap. I didn't fall or collapse or feel pain or anything (I was numb remember.) So I sat down on the coffee table and started repeating the same phrase over and over again. "Oh shit. Oh shit! OH SHIT!" (So sue me, even a writer can't be eloquent in a moment like that!) The worst part about that moment was realizing that I was alone. I mean really alone. If not for my dear friend and neighbor next door, I had no one to call for help outside of 911. And I loathed calling my neighbor because she had ben sick all day. Even when I did call her I said, "Donna, I'm so sorry to bother you...but i think I broke my foot."
I'm one of those people who hates to leaves a large needy footprint on others. Yet, somehow, I always manage to do so. Poor Donna's been working overtime taking care of me since I can't bend over or reach up or stay upright (nothing to do with the foot, actually. I'm a friggin' klutz with or without crutches. Just ask anyone who came to last year's Author's After Dark)...or the EMTs that carried me off that Saturday afternoon as I apparently skipped like a broken record and asked over and over again 'Where's Bianca?" So, in under a year that's a concussion, several broken toes, a broken foot...anyone remember anything else? Do complications from surgery count?
Then I found out the hard way that Mac's PAGES (their version of WORD) does not have an autosave feature. WTF?!?!?!? What the hell kind of a word processing program or any kind of program that deals with data management these days does not have an autosave feature???? PAGES, that's what kind. All this time all my corrections, all my work, if the battery ran down on my computer it was completely lost. I never realized it...not until I lost three thousand words. That's three thousand words of Nightwalker nirvana you all will never get to read because...let's face it, I can't remember what I had for breakfast this morning. I don't remember what is in my own books!
Sigh.
So, this is my interesting life. I don't know if my professional life can top that. Do let's hope not!! I'll be happy and content with reasonably successful. :)
I am about to release three successive books.
NOCTURNAL
DRINK OF ME and
THE BID
Okay if you aren't up on all thinks Jacki....that last book, yeah, that's me. JAX. It's me...sexified. Hey, is too a word! Imagine what I could write that's too hot for my regular books... (Yikes! After the short story in NOCTURNAL, I'm not sure they drew that line soon enough!!) Well, the JAX name is all my uber sexified work. Okay, I'll call it erotica if I must. ;) It's the only one scheduled for the moment. We'll see how it does. :) So that's September, October and November releases. Save your pennies, chicks. Oh and I really would love any and all feedback you have about these latest works. Just submit and email through the website or directly to jackifrankwrites@gmail.com.
I'll write again soon. With AAD coming up there should be a lot to talk about. Thanks for listening to my interesting life. ;)
Oh and don't forget, if you are in the NY NJ CT area, Authors After Dark is opening their signing to ALL COMERS so you can get all your books signed! Go to my site to check on details. The author list is dated though. Let me try and get it fixed for you. You can even buy NOCTURNAL right there and have it signed by both me and JESS HAINES...and we have signed bookplates from Kate Douglas since she tried but couldn't make it. Next year's author line up is looking really hot if everyone who says they are going to come comes! And we have some super cool surprises planned.
Night everyone!
Hugs and Kitties
Jacki
Around about this time I realized that my luggage had been robbed on the way home from Hawaii. ALL of my shoes (cept my flip flops and a pair that had been zipped up in hiding), my Adidas Sneakers, all my Sephora makeup, and my prescription Versace glasses. All my skin care products (ladies, do I have to tell you how much that can add up to? I think not.) I wrote to U. S. AIRWAYs ( did you get that all right? U S AIRWAYS. Let me say it again...U S AIRWAYS) the moment I realized it had happened. Do let me share with you their response: (Since they were ever so polite about it.)
Ms. XXXX,
Thank you for contacting the Central Baggage Resolution Office at US
Airways.
Regrettably, when a customer receives his/her property and does not
report the occurrence of this type of baggage irregularity within 24
hours, we cannot honor any subsequent claim.
We appreciate this opportunity to address your email.
Respectfully,
Clay Hues
Central Baggage Resolution Office
US Airways
That unexplained smoke you saw on the horizon yesterday? That was coming out of my ears. I wrote back. *smirk* I was ever. so. polite. I swear. No, really. But I did sign the response: One Very Pissed Off Woman Who Spends A Lot Of Her Time In The Public Eye. *smirk* Let's see how polite they are this time around. I do hate to throw my weight around (since there's so little of it anymore) but sometimes, man, you just gotta show them that they don't have all the power in this world. I mean I had to PAY to have the luggage on the flight in the first damn place, and then they let it get ROBBED??? The least my money can do is protect what's in the thing! I mean, UPS does it. Why can't they??
Then I stood up and broke my damn foot. (Only I could possibly manage this.) I had been writing for about an hour an a half (good on me!! I'd been having trouble finding the muse for months, but boy was it flowing that day! Deadlines can be very inspiring!) and apparently my foot fell asleep. I say apparently because there was no tingle or pins or needles. It just clocked out. I didn't even realize it was numb. So I stood up (kay, so I more likely flung myself up out of my chair. I never do things slowly anymore! Getting skinny gives you bounce!) One foot worked and the other folded and I unknowingly put all my weight on it (all what, 147 lbs of me? I mean c'mon! How did this not happen 175 lbs ago??) and heard a loud snap. I didn't fall or collapse or feel pain or anything (I was numb remember.) So I sat down on the coffee table and started repeating the same phrase over and over again. "Oh shit. Oh shit! OH SHIT!" (So sue me, even a writer can't be eloquent in a moment like that!) The worst part about that moment was realizing that I was alone. I mean really alone. If not for my dear friend and neighbor next door, I had no one to call for help outside of 911. And I loathed calling my neighbor because she had ben sick all day. Even when I did call her I said, "Donna, I'm so sorry to bother you...but i think I broke my foot."
I'm one of those people who hates to leaves a large needy footprint on others. Yet, somehow, I always manage to do so. Poor Donna's been working overtime taking care of me since I can't bend over or reach up or stay upright (nothing to do with the foot, actually. I'm a friggin' klutz with or without crutches. Just ask anyone who came to last year's Author's After Dark)...or the EMTs that carried me off that Saturday afternoon as I apparently skipped like a broken record and asked over and over again 'Where's Bianca?" So, in under a year that's a concussion, several broken toes, a broken foot...anyone remember anything else? Do complications from surgery count?
Then I found out the hard way that Mac's PAGES (their version of WORD) does not have an autosave feature. WTF?!?!?!? What the hell kind of a word processing program or any kind of program that deals with data management these days does not have an autosave feature???? PAGES, that's what kind. All this time all my corrections, all my work, if the battery ran down on my computer it was completely lost. I never realized it...not until I lost three thousand words. That's three thousand words of Nightwalker nirvana you all will never get to read because...let's face it, I can't remember what I had for breakfast this morning. I don't remember what is in my own books!
Sigh.
So, this is my interesting life. I don't know if my professional life can top that. Do let's hope not!! I'll be happy and content with reasonably successful. :)
I am about to release three successive books.
NOCTURNAL
DRINK OF ME and
THE BID
Okay if you aren't up on all thinks Jacki....that last book, yeah, that's me. JAX. It's me...sexified. Hey, is too a word! Imagine what I could write that's too hot for my regular books... (Yikes! After the short story in NOCTURNAL, I'm not sure they drew that line soon enough!!) Well, the JAX name is all my uber sexified work. Okay, I'll call it erotica if I must. ;) It's the only one scheduled for the moment. We'll see how it does. :) So that's September, October and November releases. Save your pennies, chicks. Oh and I really would love any and all feedback you have about these latest works. Just submit and email through the website or directly to jackifrankwrites@gmail.com.
I'll write again soon. With AAD coming up there should be a lot to talk about. Thanks for listening to my interesting life. ;)
Oh and don't forget, if you are in the NY NJ CT area, Authors After Dark is opening their signing to ALL COMERS so you can get all your books signed! Go to my site to check on details. The author list is dated though. Let me try and get it fixed for you. You can even buy NOCTURNAL right there and have it signed by both me and JESS HAINES...and we have signed bookplates from Kate Douglas since she tried but couldn't make it. Next year's author line up is looking really hot if everyone who says they are going to come comes! And we have some super cool surprises planned.
Night everyone!
Hugs and Kitties
Jacki
Saturday, August 7, 2010
The Day After
There was an apocalyptic movie named The Day After, and somehow that feels apropos. I want everyone to know I am okay. Relatively. Auntie Depression has come for a visit. I am overwhelmingly sad every time I see the littlest thing that reminds me of B. I pull in the garage, her bike is there, I open the pantry, that stupid ramen noodle soup she thinks is more than adequate nutrition for a growing girl is there. A sentence you never thought you'd utter: Ramen noodle soup made me cry.
And then I brought Snickers, the kitten I rescued three weeks ago, to Brother Wolf so she could be properly fostered and then adopted. So that was a heart ache on top of what I am already feeling. I keep wandering the house aimlessly, as if my body knows it's supposed to be doing something: Making dinner, playing Connect Four, riding her ass to take a bath...but there's no B here and no longer a need to do all of that.
I don't even know if she made it home. I have to assume she did. No one called me and there's no way of calling there. I took B's phone away because if she can Skype with her mother while she's here then she can damn well Skype with me while she's there. I'm not going to pay for a phone for all of them to use. Like I said, this gravy train has come to a full and complete stop.
I sent a letter home with B, suggesting to her mom the things I felt were urgently needed in order to see B was cared for, and explaining why I sent her home and wouldn't be bringing her back any time soon. I've not gotten a response and I won't be surprised if I don't get one. Why should she let me talk to her kid if she's not going to get anything out of it any more? I guess I feel like I'm never going to see B again.
I'm catching a little flack for 'oversharing' my personal life on the internet. That it's somehow going to hurt my career. Well. Gee. Okay. And welcome to the land of I don't give a flying fuck. I write. I write pretty damn good too. You should buy me based on that. If you don't want to know what I'm like as a person, don't follow my blogs. Don't trail my personal account on Facebook. It's your finger doing the clicking on that mouse, not mine.
For those who do follow me, you know I'm usually a pretty happy, ebullient person. I share the good and the bad, the professional and the personal. I share it all because clearly you want to hear it. And I share it because on days like yesterday, your support rolls in and surrounds me, comforts me like a great big hug, buoys me up when I think I am going to shatter into pieces. I wish I could return the favor to all of you. It's special. It's precious. It means the world to me.
Thanks guys.
Hugs and Kitties
Jacki
And then I brought Snickers, the kitten I rescued three weeks ago, to Brother Wolf so she could be properly fostered and then adopted. So that was a heart ache on top of what I am already feeling. I keep wandering the house aimlessly, as if my body knows it's supposed to be doing something: Making dinner, playing Connect Four, riding her ass to take a bath...but there's no B here and no longer a need to do all of that.
I don't even know if she made it home. I have to assume she did. No one called me and there's no way of calling there. I took B's phone away because if she can Skype with her mother while she's here then she can damn well Skype with me while she's there. I'm not going to pay for a phone for all of them to use. Like I said, this gravy train has come to a full and complete stop.
I sent a letter home with B, suggesting to her mom the things I felt were urgently needed in order to see B was cared for, and explaining why I sent her home and wouldn't be bringing her back any time soon. I've not gotten a response and I won't be surprised if I don't get one. Why should she let me talk to her kid if she's not going to get anything out of it any more? I guess I feel like I'm never going to see B again.
I'm catching a little flack for 'oversharing' my personal life on the internet. That it's somehow going to hurt my career. Well. Gee. Okay. And welcome to the land of I don't give a flying fuck. I write. I write pretty damn good too. You should buy me based on that. If you don't want to know what I'm like as a person, don't follow my blogs. Don't trail my personal account on Facebook. It's your finger doing the clicking on that mouse, not mine.
For those who do follow me, you know I'm usually a pretty happy, ebullient person. I share the good and the bad, the professional and the personal. I share it all because clearly you want to hear it. And I share it because on days like yesterday, your support rolls in and surrounds me, comforts me like a great big hug, buoys me up when I think I am going to shatter into pieces. I wish I could return the favor to all of you. It's special. It's precious. It means the world to me.
Thanks guys.
Hugs and Kitties
Jacki
Friday, August 6, 2010
A glimpse...
You have had a glimpse of me and I of you. The previous post has been taken down...for many reasons. I am not afraid to over share, and my readers have treated me like a friend or family, so naturally I do the same. Time and again you all have expressed to me how much you appreciate how 'real' I am and how connected you feel to me. When I wrote that post I was upset, my mind reeling, my spirit torn to pieces. Perhaps that is a bad time to try and compose clear thoughts and express oneself, perhaps it is the best time.
I am human. I'm just a girl who writes. Writing is now and always will be how I express what is inside of me. Sometimes that is painful and glaring, and as I said, I am not afraid of that. Moreover, I will treasure the responses I got from you. They meant the world to me.
However, in the interests of protecting the child involved...
I'm sure you get my point.
Hugs and Kitties
Jacki
I am human. I'm just a girl who writes. Writing is now and always will be how I express what is inside of me. Sometimes that is painful and glaring, and as I said, I am not afraid of that. Moreover, I will treasure the responses I got from you. They meant the world to me.
However, in the interests of protecting the child involved...
I'm sure you get my point.
Hugs and Kitties
Jacki
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
I Hate My House I Love My House
Soo...if any of you have been following me on Facebook or know me as a friend, you know I have been struggling with my writing. The truth is I haven't written anything of consequence in a dog's age. (Don't worry, I have enough backlog in books to keep you in fresh material for a long time to come.) Now, it might be professional suicide to share this with you, but I have committed suicide before and am still here to tell the tale, and I have always shared everything with you all and I am not about to start pulling my punches.
Truth is, all writers go through writer's block...or periods of feeling drained of their creativity. What I speak of is not new phenomenon. Some of the most famous authors you know were plagued by the writer's block beast. But for me it's not so much a block as it is...my inner child wants to play not work not ever so nah!
I am 170lbs lighter than I was. I can wear gorgeous clothes and shoes. I can get on planes and fit in the seats. I can travel everywhere. I can do just about anything! Why oh why would I want to sit here, in front of the computer, in this seat that I was trapped in under fat and infirmity for DECADES in this dark spot in my house?? I existed in that spot, unmoving, unliving, uneverything. Now...I loathe it. I loathe sitting in one spot. I loathe being in my house. I loathe this computer screen I have stared at for every single day for so damn long.
I want to PLAY! I want to shop! I want to go out and go dancing and run on a beach and do things people do to have fun. I want to conquer my fears and do some crazy ass shit while I'm still young enough to do so. Because, you see, it snuk up on me so fast last time. One day I was young and healthy (albeit overweight. Have been since I was 15) and then the next...(so it seemed) I couldn't even climb a set of three stairs. I couldn't walk through a store. I had to go to Wal Mart or Target only because they were the only ones who had electric carts. I had to buy a one story house (I have a 'bonus' room though which is up over the garage. I lived in this house for almost 2 years before I was able to even see it!)
The point is, I feel like I've wasted so much time and, despite the weight loss, I am still not all that healthy. (People marvel at how much meds I am on. Granted it's a few less now than before...) What if I spend all this great time sitting on my ass and suddenly...bam! It's all gone again?
But like I said in my title...I hate my house....but I love my house. I want to keep it. I want to keep my car. I want all those little things that come with a paycheck. So...this girl's got to work. It's not as though I want to be irresponsible. It's not that I want to quit and never write again. I love to write. I love to make up stories. I like to create unique worlds that blow your socks off. :) (My agent and my editors and publishers are going to be very glad to hear this part) So here's the thing. How do I write and stay focused when my inner child is whining that it wants to go out and play?
On top of all of this, I'm stuck in my own head. Or maybe even my own ego. I sit here thinking whatever I do next has to be UTTERLY SPECTACULAR!! It has to outshine everything I have ever done before AND it has to be strides ahead of the tremendous talent that is out there in my genre. (And those who aren't tremendously talented but somehow popular just the same). I have to write a NYT Bestseller that outdoes myself...and can do battle with everyone else. And then once I do that..OMG I have to do it again! And again!
And crap, I gotta pay taxes, too.
Not too much pressure, eh? This is the essence of writer's block. A writer who gets stuck in the pressures and minutiae in their own minds. All of the above mentioned crap AND the daily list of things in their personal and business lives that they swim in.
But I think I found a solution. For me anyway. I'm taking it Old School. I'm leaving the laptop at home, leaving home at home, and with nothing but a wire bound journal and a favorite pen, (well, ok so i do take my cell) I am going out and finding quiet nooks and crannies where I can sit, enjoying the OUT THERE out there, and yet focusing completely on writing. This is how I did it when I was a kid. Back when teachers thought I was the most diligent notetaker in class? That was me writing reams and reams of stories, perfecting what would one day become a craft. The spiral notebook was my original laptop. I had forgotten how much I love the feel of pen drawing over paper. There's sometimes a few moments that it takes to write a word vs. typing a word that allows your brain to jump to the next thought.
Now, the downside..no delete key, no backup files (save me if I drop today's gel inks--my favorites--in a puddle), and I have to retype the whole thing over again eventually anyway. So this is strictly for creative purposes only. Perhaps just to get me started. I am considering an IPad...strictly for the purposes of being able to carry it in my purse everywhere at all times without having to lug a laptop hither and yon. The laptop isn't big, just...inconvenient. But I don't know if an IPad is easy to type on. Still, it can't be any slower than using a pen, right?
Maybe I'll stick with the low tech solution. For now it feels good. I can't tell you how many words I've written...for some reason the damn journal refuses to tell me!
Hugs and Kitties
Jacki
PS: So far Barnes and Noble and the Library have been tried out. B and N is nice, but there's a lot of pressure in those bookshelves. The library has no pressure because they don't have a single damn book in my genre from what I can see, but it was really freaking noisy after 2pm. Any other suggestions? I need a chair that's comfy that I can cross my legs in and prop the journal on my knee. Oh, hey! My therapist's waiting room was nice. Wonder if they'll let me haunt it. :P
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Mother's Day for Demons...
...and other things we don't think about.
I think one of the things the I always asked myself when reading paranormal romance was...and where did these people's families disappear to?? Granted, if you are turned into a vampire you have a choice, bury all your relations throughout the years or turn them and take 'em with you. Werewolves always seem to be more family oriented. Dens. Packs. Inbreeding and in-fighting. Okay, so sometimes there's such a thing as too much family.
I took a slightly more traditional approach to family when I created the Nightwalker breeds. They are family-centric, (although without the incest, tyvm) and that seems to me to be one of their most attractive traits. After all, didn't you just melt when you saw Noah playing with Leah? Didn't you just want him all wrapped up in a bow? Can't you just imagine him on Mother's Day with Kestra bringing her flowers and brekkies in bed?? (Well, had she not been...you know...) Doesn't it just kill you to think those genes aren't going to be spread into the future generations?? Aren't you just dying to know if the Vampire and the Lycanthrope are ever going to be able to reach across their racial chasm and perhaps, maybe, one day, make a baby together? What about the Lycanthrope and the Demon?? Or the Vampire and the...oops. Wait. That would be telling. ;)
I think this stems from my difficulties in the world of family. I had a brutal childhood, and although I have four sisters, we aren't what I would call uber close. I'm not blaming anyone. It's a pretty selfish day and age and we all get so wrapped up in our own crap that it seems family has fallen to the wayside. I am up front and guilty of it myself. As I get older I seem to long for the family touch more and more. After all, someone needs to take care of me one day when I am old and sick. :P Just kidding. I already was old and sick. I'm in my new thirties now.
But it always amazes me that, even if we lack for genetic family, we throng together to make families of our own. At my signing this weekend I spent fabulous time with this adorable family. They are called the Blood Lust Book Club. There's the gay male matriarch, the hippy dippy female father figure who runs War Hammer games, the gay male's wife who has a rockin tattoo and, erm, bite marks...and all the little kidlets that sit around and hug all the time, share meals, share hurts and woes and are probably more there for each other than most traditional church-going families ever will be. It's times like this I think we might actually have hope in our future as a society in general.
For now, I like making up my own societies. The good guys are good and the bad guys are dead...eventually. I swear....EVENTUALLY!! (Then again, eventually is true for all things in a thermodynamic universe...) In my new title Drink of Me (Zebra, Oct. 2010) I take a relatively orphaned group of males and make them into one of the tightest family units I've ever written. The blood drinking and all that...well, it's just one of those family quirks. But far be it from me to judge the non-traditional family. In fact, I celebrate it!
So imagine Mother's Day in Noah's castle. All your favorite characters are there. Doesn't it warm the cockles of your heart? Or, like me, can you see the sadder hearts that would be there? They have their HEAs, their one true love, but suddenly we realize that it's not all about that, is it? Are we selfish for wanting more? For wanting it ALL??
Meh. Not to worry. I'll see that we all get what we want one way or another. Even if we don't quite realize it was what we were really asking for all along.
I think one of the things the I always asked myself when reading paranormal romance was...and where did these people's families disappear to?? Granted, if you are turned into a vampire you have a choice, bury all your relations throughout the years or turn them and take 'em with you. Werewolves always seem to be more family oriented. Dens. Packs. Inbreeding and in-fighting. Okay, so sometimes there's such a thing as too much family.
I took a slightly more traditional approach to family when I created the Nightwalker breeds. They are family-centric, (although without the incest, tyvm) and that seems to me to be one of their most attractive traits. After all, didn't you just melt when you saw Noah playing with Leah? Didn't you just want him all wrapped up in a bow? Can't you just imagine him on Mother's Day with Kestra bringing her flowers and brekkies in bed?? (Well, had she not been...you know...) Doesn't it just kill you to think those genes aren't going to be spread into the future generations?? Aren't you just dying to know if the Vampire and the Lycanthrope are ever going to be able to reach across their racial chasm and perhaps, maybe, one day, make a baby together? What about the Lycanthrope and the Demon?? Or the Vampire and the...oops. Wait. That would be telling. ;)
I think this stems from my difficulties in the world of family. I had a brutal childhood, and although I have four sisters, we aren't what I would call uber close. I'm not blaming anyone. It's a pretty selfish day and age and we all get so wrapped up in our own crap that it seems family has fallen to the wayside. I am up front and guilty of it myself. As I get older I seem to long for the family touch more and more. After all, someone needs to take care of me one day when I am old and sick. :P Just kidding. I already was old and sick. I'm in my new thirties now.
But it always amazes me that, even if we lack for genetic family, we throng together to make families of our own. At my signing this weekend I spent fabulous time with this adorable family. They are called the Blood Lust Book Club. There's the gay male matriarch, the hippy dippy female father figure who runs War Hammer games, the gay male's wife who has a rockin tattoo and, erm, bite marks...and all the little kidlets that sit around and hug all the time, share meals, share hurts and woes and are probably more there for each other than most traditional church-going families ever will be. It's times like this I think we might actually have hope in our future as a society in general.
For now, I like making up my own societies. The good guys are good and the bad guys are dead...eventually. I swear....EVENTUALLY!! (Then again, eventually is true for all things in a thermodynamic universe...) In my new title Drink of Me (Zebra, Oct. 2010) I take a relatively orphaned group of males and make them into one of the tightest family units I've ever written. The blood drinking and all that...well, it's just one of those family quirks. But far be it from me to judge the non-traditional family. In fact, I celebrate it!
So imagine Mother's Day in Noah's castle. All your favorite characters are there. Doesn't it warm the cockles of your heart? Or, like me, can you see the sadder hearts that would be there? They have their HEAs, their one true love, but suddenly we realize that it's not all about that, is it? Are we selfish for wanting more? For wanting it ALL??
Meh. Not to worry. I'll see that we all get what we want one way or another. Even if we don't quite realize it was what we were really asking for all along.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Keeping it Real
So, there's this thing out there in the author world about 'over sharing' information about yourself. I've been heavily criticized for talking openly about my life, the things I do and the people in it. Basically, I over share. (According to some critical others.) But what they call over sharing and TMI, I call keeping it real.
I'm sorry, but the world has enough stuck up, holier-than-thou assholes in it. I am not going sit up on some NYT Bestselling throne looking down my nose at all the little peons come to worship at my feet, keeping the air of mystery, playing the entitled diva. Frankly, I'm not entitled to squat unless you, the readers, feel like giving it to me...and I am grateful enough as it is for your pocket change when you decide to buy my work. If you go beyond that, if you come to me with an email or follow me on Facebook or any of that stuff, I assume you are doing it because you want to get to know me a little better. You want to know something other than if I can write a good story.
So, I am happy to give you...me. My weight loss journey. My boob job. My struggles with my kid. My puddles of insecurity, my tears when I see someone trash talk me...the list goes on. And I'm not going to give you a shinier version of me. Just the me of me. Now, mind you, I will keep things to myself in certain ways. Like, my real name. Where I live. Some of ya'll are freaks (if you are offended by that reference, then...urm...you're probably a freak. Clearly even you think so!)and I am going to protect my kids and family.
There are those who say it's a matter of professionalism. It's unprofessional to talk about how, ever since you hit forty, you have the worst time trying not to fart in public. Oh c'mon. You're all women out there! (Men have never cared about when and where they fart, so...)You all have bodies! And frankly it always gives me tremendous comfort to know someone else goes through this and is willing to talk about it! What would be unprofessional is if I tried to put that tidbit into a conversation between one of my heroes and heroines. That is not romantic. (Although, it's funny shit so another writer who does comedic romance might get away with it). You come to my writing to suspend reality. You come to me to keep it real. If you don't like what I have to say, stop following me! Resign from the blogs and mailing lists and etc. Right? If you want mystery between us, by all means. I can do that. So long as you don't read my blogs or my Facebook posts. I call it the 'head in the sand' approach. I don't cope well with bad reviews, so therefore I avoid them like the plague. I stick my fingers in my ears, shut my eyes and yell "La! La! La!" Voila! As far as I am concerned, I never get a bad review. (Okay, well, I do come across them accidentally once in a while. In which case, I need a fifth of scotch to fix the problem. And don't get me started on reviews. Did you know there are people out there with NOTHING BETTER TO DO than to go on Amazon and trash talk other people's books in order to raise up the authors they like?? Can you believe that?? Oh, but we're not supposed to talk about that, too. And we're not supposed to answer back. I am not making that up. According to RWR magazine, that is known as 'shooting yourself in the foot' professionally.)
I understand. It serves no purpose to waste energy engaging an idiot in a battle of wits...especially when the poor dears are so unarmed. It's basically grade school all over again. Bullies. The popular girls make themselves feel better by whipping others to shreds. Oy. Grow up and get a life. But the fact is, it still wounds you if you are a sensitive human being. I am not going to pretend otherwise because, frankly, I am proud of being a sensitive human being. I am proud to over share. I love nothing more than when a reader writes to me and says how 'down to earth' I am. How real I am. How much they appreciate my touchable approach. I will be ashamed of myself the day I look down my nose at someone and deem myself too good to be honest with them.
If I want to be professional, I call my agent and cry hysterically with her or get mad and stomp my feet with her and then let HER call my editors or publishers or whoever has ticked me off and communicate my...erm...discontent with the current situation. Unprofessional would be to call them directly and curse them out like the New York gal I am with no regard for my future contracts. That, after all, is why she earns the big bucks. She is a tool. A buffer. An ambassador. A very talented one. A priceless one. What, are you shocked to hear I can behave like a child on occasion? You mean you don't? Not even deep down on the inside? If you are able to keep that under wraps, I envy you. Perhaps it is because I am bipolar, perhaps it's because I never learned how to suppress all of that emotion...perhaps I'm a child now and forever. Flaws. A ton of them. And I have them like crazy!!
Don't you?
Hugs and Kitties
Jacki
I'm sorry, but the world has enough stuck up, holier-than-thou assholes in it. I am not going sit up on some NYT Bestselling throne looking down my nose at all the little peons come to worship at my feet, keeping the air of mystery, playing the entitled diva. Frankly, I'm not entitled to squat unless you, the readers, feel like giving it to me...and I am grateful enough as it is for your pocket change when you decide to buy my work. If you go beyond that, if you come to me with an email or follow me on Facebook or any of that stuff, I assume you are doing it because you want to get to know me a little better. You want to know something other than if I can write a good story.
So, I am happy to give you...me. My weight loss journey. My boob job. My struggles with my kid. My puddles of insecurity, my tears when I see someone trash talk me...the list goes on. And I'm not going to give you a shinier version of me. Just the me of me. Now, mind you, I will keep things to myself in certain ways. Like, my real name. Where I live. Some of ya'll are freaks (if you are offended by that reference, then...urm...you're probably a freak. Clearly even you think so!)and I am going to protect my kids and family.
There are those who say it's a matter of professionalism. It's unprofessional to talk about how, ever since you hit forty, you have the worst time trying not to fart in public. Oh c'mon. You're all women out there! (Men have never cared about when and where they fart, so...)You all have bodies! And frankly it always gives me tremendous comfort to know someone else goes through this and is willing to talk about it! What would be unprofessional is if I tried to put that tidbit into a conversation between one of my heroes and heroines. That is not romantic. (Although, it's funny shit so another writer who does comedic romance might get away with it). You come to my writing to suspend reality. You come to me to keep it real. If you don't like what I have to say, stop following me! Resign from the blogs and mailing lists and etc. Right? If you want mystery between us, by all means. I can do that. So long as you don't read my blogs or my Facebook posts. I call it the 'head in the sand' approach. I don't cope well with bad reviews, so therefore I avoid them like the plague. I stick my fingers in my ears, shut my eyes and yell "La! La! La!" Voila! As far as I am concerned, I never get a bad review. (Okay, well, I do come across them accidentally once in a while. In which case, I need a fifth of scotch to fix the problem. And don't get me started on reviews. Did you know there are people out there with NOTHING BETTER TO DO than to go on Amazon and trash talk other people's books in order to raise up the authors they like?? Can you believe that?? Oh, but we're not supposed to talk about that, too. And we're not supposed to answer back. I am not making that up. According to RWR magazine, that is known as 'shooting yourself in the foot' professionally.)
I understand. It serves no purpose to waste energy engaging an idiot in a battle of wits...especially when the poor dears are so unarmed. It's basically grade school all over again. Bullies. The popular girls make themselves feel better by whipping others to shreds. Oy. Grow up and get a life. But the fact is, it still wounds you if you are a sensitive human being. I am not going to pretend otherwise because, frankly, I am proud of being a sensitive human being. I am proud to over share. I love nothing more than when a reader writes to me and says how 'down to earth' I am. How real I am. How much they appreciate my touchable approach. I will be ashamed of myself the day I look down my nose at someone and deem myself too good to be honest with them.
If I want to be professional, I call my agent and cry hysterically with her or get mad and stomp my feet with her and then let HER call my editors or publishers or whoever has ticked me off and communicate my...erm...discontent with the current situation. Unprofessional would be to call them directly and curse them out like the New York gal I am with no regard for my future contracts. That, after all, is why she earns the big bucks. She is a tool. A buffer. An ambassador. A very talented one. A priceless one. What, are you shocked to hear I can behave like a child on occasion? You mean you don't? Not even deep down on the inside? If you are able to keep that under wraps, I envy you. Perhaps it is because I am bipolar, perhaps it's because I never learned how to suppress all of that emotion...perhaps I'm a child now and forever. Flaws. A ton of them. And I have them like crazy!!
Don't you?
Hugs and Kitties
Jacki
Thursday, April 15, 2010
New Website Has Launched!!
Hi all! Welcome to my new website!! We worked really hard to make this hugely user friendly and to make it easy for you to get answers to all your questions. Where am I signing? What is AAD? Who is JAX? Are you coming out with a new Nightwalker book?
You can write me easily right from the website. Sign up for alerts to these blogs and a newsletter if I release one. You can see what is scheduled. What hits the shelves when. You can read first chapters or teasers from the backs of the books. I have fancy little flashes to entertain you and oh so much more!! Come. Play around. Have FUN!
Hugs and Kitties
Jacki
You can write me easily right from the website. Sign up for alerts to these blogs and a newsletter if I release one. You can see what is scheduled. What hits the shelves when. You can read first chapters or teasers from the backs of the books. I have fancy little flashes to entertain you and oh so much more!! Come. Play around. Have FUN!
Hugs and Kitties
Jacki
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