I’ve never really done anything for my “blogaversary” but I figure after six years of blogging at this blog — whether it was called Bacon & Whiskey or Amoeba Kat Musings or whatever name it might have in the future — maybe a little celebration is in order.
Some people do full on blog parties for their blogging anniversaries. I truly admire that. I would attempt it, but I know I don’t have it in me to do it right. Better I leave it to the pros.
Instead, I’m just going to make an effort to post here more often between today and the anniversary. I don’t know if I’ll manage every day, but I will try very hard. There might be a lot of pictures of food (Thanksgiving is coming up!).
So, anytime between now and October 19th, if you leave a comment on one of my posts here (remember, comments close after 2 days), I’ll enter you into a draw. (This includes this post. No pressure on comment content. So long as it’s not spam or harassment, it counts.) The winner of the draw will receive an ebook. I haven’t decided which one yet, but it’ll either be by me or Kaimana Wolff.
I’ll announce the winner on the 19th and contact you via email about your prize (so make sure you use a valid email when commenting). I wish you all luck.
One other thing: I’m going to try something over the next few days. Thanksgiving is coming up so I’m going to try to end each blog post with something I’m grateful for. My original idea was to do several posts, each dedicated to a thing I’m grateful for, but I think this is more workable.
Today, I am grateful for my ability to stick to this blog for so long.
It’s here! I’m so excited. I’ve wanted to show off my cover for Stranger Skies for a WHILE now, but had to force myself to wait til today.
This was not easy okay.
After the cover, there’s the cover-copy/synopsis/blurb thing, an excerpt, and a giveaway to win an advance reading copy ebook! Plenty of options for entry, and I’m giving away more than one copy.
Release date: October 4th. Pre-orders will be available around the 20th.
A goddess’ fall from grace leaves her on an alien world, devoid of her followers, trapped in a mortal body. Should she strive to regain her godhood or accept her mortality and find love?
Silva, Queen of Wolves, Lady of the True Woods, seeks her only friend Etan, who, along with other deities of the Council of Divinity, has gone missing for reasons unknown. Her search traps her on a world where the wolves have lost faith in her; she becomes a mortal woman whose remaining powers could brand her as a witch.
Through the chaos of war and the turmoil in her own heart, Silva can’t escape a persistent feeling: that her fall was not an accident.
ExcerptHeart’s Blood Tavern had indoor plumbing which, according to Scoas, made it a rare building in the town. The toilets were composting toilets, however, and so the scent of human waste combined with peat overwhelmed Silva’s sensitive nose. She entered the stall and did her business quickly, trying to ignore the pong of the room. There was one sink and a small mirror of that same polished stone — while she washed her hands, she noticed she was more fleshed out than she had been the day before. Minae food worked quickly.
She turned to leave, and then stopped dead, horror making her veins run ice cold. Above the door was another animal head as ‘decor’.
Its muzzle was posed open in a silent snarl, its ears were flat back on its head, and it was made to look vicious around the eye’s epicanthic folds — but this was all a lie. She reached her hand up to touch the soft fur, but it was too high up, and she couldn’t reach.
She’d found her first Minae wolf.
The scent of fear and death hit her then; it had been masked before, but now that she gazed upon the source it was so clear she reeled. She ran back into the stall and vomited what was left of that morning’s breakfast.
This wolf had died in fear and pain, and she hadn’t been here to help.
She hadn’t been able to help so many of her children on Terra, too. The mortal humans had shot them from planes, poisoned them, hunted them near to extinction. The only thing that had saved them from that fate had been constant fighting — from Silva herself, and her one or two human followers. Mortals who lived with wolf-hybrids and knew about her existence, and who wanted to help save her children. Silva had petitioned the Twins to save her cubs, and they had finally listened and moved all the wolves off-planet. She didn’t think they would have had it not been for the strengthening arguments of a few other gods who had a soft spot for wolves — the Morrigan, Hecate, and Odin were the big three who had argued on Silva’s side. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever properly expressed her gratitude to those deities.
On Tau Ceti, the wolves had been placed far enough away from human settlements so as to be relatively safe. But when humans expanded outwards, as they invariably did?
If she never got home, the Cetian wolves might meet the same fate. And this time she wouldn’t be around to stop them from going extinct completely.
She shook with helplessness and fear. There was nothing she could do. She was trapped here in mortal form, and her children might all die. The thought made her sick again.
When finally she exited the bathroom, after having rinsed her mouth thoroughly, she felt scrubbed out, hollowed, empty. A gourd left in the rain after All Hallows Eve; burned on the inside, destined for the compost heap to rot away in ignominy.
She tried to hide her distress when she got back to the table. Their food had arrived by that point, and a man she’d never seen before stood beside the table and chatted with Scoas and Natai, and occasionally giving Brinna a predatory smile. Brinna seemed less than pleased with the man’s attentions, but she was unfailingly polite.
Silva instantly disliked the man. He smelled wrong, and his bearing positively screamed his arrogance.
Scoas noticed Silva’s return, then, and made introductions before Silva could escape.
The man’s name was Kaz, and he gave Silva an exceptionally oily smile. He was a hunter — the best in Heartpin, apparently. “You must have seen my prize trophy,” he said to her, folding his arms over his chest. Silva politely raised her eyebrows even as her stomach churned with dread. “The wolf’s head hanging in the privy. Got that bastard over a year ago. Scoas bought the pelt.”
Silva felt like fainting. She barely heard what Scoas said: “It’s a very nice pelt, too; we simply love it.”
“There’s a secret to get the best pelts, Scoas my man,” Kaz said, winking at Scoas. “Would you like to know it?”
“Excuse me,” Silva said, brushing past Kaz and heading for the door. She knew the secret for the best pelts, and if she heard Kaz tell them exactly how he’d tortured the young wolf whose head hung in the bathroom, she might kill him right there in the tavern.
Today I’m hosting Rosanne Rivers on her blog tour in honor of the release of her new book, After the Fear! This means you get to read an excerpt and enter to win a copy of the book. Exciting, right? I know I’m excited. After the Fear looks like it’s right up my alley, and as soon as my current fiction-fast is done with I’m going to be reading it.
In Sola’s city, everyone obeys the rules. Stay away from the trigger cameras and regularly update your Debtbook, and you just might survive. But having to watch the way criminals are dealt with—murdered by Demonstrators in the Stadium—is a law Sola tries to avoid. When a charming Demonstrator kisses her at a party, however, she’s thrust into the Stadium and forced into the very role she despises.
Armed with only natural resourcefulness and a caring nature, Sola narrowly survives her first bout. Her small success means she’s whisked off to a training camp, where she discovers a world beyond the trigger cameras and monitoring—a world where falling in love with a killer doesn’t seem so terrible.
Yet life as a Demonstrator has no peace. Sola must train her way through twenty-five more Demonstrations before she can return home to her father. At the end of each battle, only one survivor remains.
Sola could face anyone in the Stadium . . . even a loved one.
Coral takes up nearly all of my thoughts on the walk home. One moment I’m annoyed with myself for hurting her, the next I’m annoyed with her for tainting the memory of my first kiss. By the time I scan into the flat, I’ve decided I’m actually annoyed with Dylan for turning me into the kind of girl who over thinks everything.
That’s weird. Dad’s briefcase is in the living room. He’s meant to be at work.
I peek into his room, then mine. Nothing. A faraway digger makes me jump, and I let out a half breath/half laugh to myself. I always creep myself out so easily. I’m actually relieved to hear a noise from the kitchen, because a noise that’s definitely someone is better than a creak which could be someone.
‘Why didn’t you answer me?’ I ask, rushing into the last room of the flat.
Three people crowd my kitchen. I bounce back from the threshold, as if I’ve hit an invisible wall. Mr Winters stands by the door, tall and gangly with his hands held behind his back. His grey face almost matches his white coat. The other two are surly-looking men I don’t recognise, but their Liaison uniforms unite all of them against me. One eyes me greedily, his arm resting on my kitchen counter.
A sticky bubble forms at the back of my throat. Mr Winters holds a finger up to silence me, although I hadn’t even opened my mouth to speak. He motions toward the digiscreen with a flick of his bony hand.
It’s fixed on my Debtbook profile. My picture grins into the room. There’s a new status underneath my name, but I can’t read it. I glance at Mr Winters and something catches the light in his hand. From in between his curled fingers protrudes the long stem of a needle.
Everything slows, although I know it happens quickly.
I back away and hit the screen. The black dots of text shuffle and sharpen. Mr Winters moves behind me. I read the words.
Sola Herrington has been chosen to help pay the Nation’s Debt.
Rosanne lives in Birmingham, UK and considers it one of her favourite cities, second only to Rome. She delights in writing for children and young adults and hopes to bring readers to an unfamiliar yet alluring setting. Rosanne was inspired to write when she read the Harry Potter books, and at age fourteen, she wrote romance fanfiction on just about every pairing you could dream up from the HP series. She currently lives with her partner and two bunny rabbits and is working on a post-apocalyptic adventure book for middle grade readers.
The winner of Bacon and Whiskey’s 12 Days of Grumpy Cat Giveaway, the prize of which is two lovely ebooks by two lovely authors, is….
Check your inbox.
Congratulations, and thanks to everyone who played. I hope you enjoy my blog and I hope you stick around. This was my first giveaway, and I had a lot of fun doing it.
(How I chose the winner: I numbered each comment in sequential order, then I went to Random.org and had their number generator generate a number between 1 and the total number of comments. The winning number corresponded to one of Jack’s comments.)
There will be more giveaways in the future, when I can devise other fun things to do around various holidays. (Also, if you sign up for my newsletter, which goes out about 4 times a year, you will have more chances for free stuff as well as early peeks at books I’m writing.)
Oh gods, aren’t you glad that’s over? Man. That was a long session of posts.
Ok. Free choice today! Write about whatever you want! Doesn’t have to be holiday-related, even. Go forth and comment! Comments close on all posts tomorrow. Maybe at midnight; maybe later. I’m not sure what time I’ll be up and online.
Winners announced tomorrow! (By the way, you’re not only getting a copy of Bellica — I’m also throwing in a copy of La Chiripa, by Kaimana Wolff. Yay two books!)