The Sacrificial Damsel

When I started writing the Bloodlines series lo these many decades ago, I added the foreshadowing of a certain character's death. And I'm about to discuss some things, so...

 

 

SPOILERS!!!

Seriously, folks. This series hos been out since 2011, so don't whine to me if you keep reading.

Anyway, I planned to fridge Sam's brother Max from the beginning. I dropped enough clues along the way that if a reader paid attention, they'd know it was coming.

Hell, Max even made jokes about being the weakest link in the gang, the damsel in distress, and needing his wife, who was twelve years his junior, to rescue him.

I've noticed several readers get to Sacrificed and don't buy Resurrected. Hell, my own cousin read the series and gave me the WTF, but she at least read the last book. However, she did comment that she was about to call me when Duncan died because "You were killing my favorite characters! t was bad enough when you killed off Max!"

But no one gives Max any credit for his autonomy. He and Tiffany did the smart thing by putting together an estate plan and their medical wishes in order to protect each other and their daughter. He didn't want to be infected with the vampire virus to save his life. He didn't want to be turned into a zombie by Sam. If it was his time, then it was his time.

He was already living on borrowed time, and he knew it. And despite everything, his wife and his doctor honored his DNR once they knew he was brain-dead.

As much as Max's death tore me apart, too, it was a necessary lesson for Sam. She needed to understand that just because she was a goddess, she couldn't snap her fingers and change things. Doing so would break other things down the road and eventually lead to universal catastrophic failure. Basically, she would destroy her universe via the butterfly effect.

So, if you skipped Resurrected because you're pissed at me for killing off Max, I hope you'll reconsider because there is sunshine, happiness, and babies in the end.

How I Broke a Toilet Seat - Twice

I swear the stupidest things happen to me. I've broken two toilet seats in the half-bath at our house. And my husband finally asked what the hell I was doing in the bathroom.

Let's start at the beginning. I was born on a Saturday-- 

Wait. That's a different story. Let's try again.

Twelve years ago, we moved to Ohio. (It's relevant. Trust me.) At the time, I was having some serious health issues. And because of those issues I ballooned up to 285 lbs.

Now, I've had eating issues all my life. For reasons. Most of them due to misogyny. I'm also not a little woman even when I was super thin in college. But this time, the weight gain had nothing to do with my mental issues and everything to do with my broken endocrine system.

Between the cancer, some new diabetes drugs, and yoga, I'm down to 235 lbs. Great, right?

Well, two years ago, I sat on the half-bath toilet to do my business and the seat cracked on the right side. DH had already gone to bed. It was three in the morning. No stores were open to get a replacement before DH gets up.

Yes, all of this went through my head as I washed my hands.

When I woke up and stumbled to the kitchen later that afternoon, DH asked what happened to the half-bath toilet. I told him I broke it. When he didn't say anything more, I asked, "Don't you want to know how I broke it?"

He said, "Nope."

DH bought a new toilet seat a couple of days later and replaced the broken one. And that was the end of it.

Or so I thought.

Until Thursday night.

And it happened again. I went to the bathroom. A crack on the right side of the toilet seat. This time, it was about two a.m. There wasn't anything I could do about it, so I went to bed.

I woke up on Saturday, do my usual morning drill, and headed for the kitchen.

DH looks up at me from whatever he was reading on his phone with an odd look. "Okay, this time I'm asking. What the hell are doing in the bathroom to crack a heavy-duty toilet seat in half? Were you standing on it?"

"No, I wasn't." I couldn't help being defensive because this was embarrassing as hell.

"Then what happened?"

"The truth?"

He gave me an incredulous look. "Yes, the truth!"

"I was sitting on toilet to do number two, and it broke."

"What?"

I repeated what I said.

"I don't understand. How...?"

"Females need to wipe front to back because poop in your vagina--"

He waves me off like I'm a plane about to land on the wrong runway. "I know, I know. Get to the breaking part.

"I wipe with my left hand, so I lean a little to the right." I shrugged. "And crack."

 "So you're putting your weight on your right hip and that breaks the toilet seat?"

Now, I'm starting to get angry. "Hey, I've lost fifty pounds! And when I was nearly 300, we were living in the apartment with those super flimsy seats, and this never happened!"

And I hear what I'm saying. Then I totally lose it. I laughed so hard both dogs were giving me concerned looks. DH started laughing, too.

"At least, it wasn't Taco Bell explosive diarrhea," he said. And we laughed even harder.

On Saturday, we picked up a new toilet seat. Once I get my words done for today, I'll pull off the old seat and install the new.

And keep my fingers crossed I don't break this one. 

The Sad Little Friday

I'm dealing with the emotional decompression after yesterday's release. It's not as bad as it was when I started publishing fifteen years. But add in the headache from the rain front moving through the area and my SAD as we rush into the Winter Solstice, and I'm not quite coherent despite the late afternoon hour.

And I broke another toilet seat. That story will have to wait until Monday. And no, I was not standing on it.

Have a good weekend, y'all! 

New Release! - Chaos Station

Now before anyone accuses me of throwing The Books of Apep and the Justice series aside, this story was written for a space opera workshop I attended nearly two years ago. I've got a couple of other stories I still need to publish from that workshop. It's a matter of carving out the time to format the text for the e-book files and create covers.

But this story was just fucking fun to write. Kris Rusch was the instructor. She gave us three lists. We had to pick one item from each list, and then let our imaginations run wild. My chosen items were a space station, a traveling music group, and a wolverine.

The result was Chaos Station. In fact, I had so much fun I'm working on a second story in that universe for the winter holidays called Chaos Christmas.

 Chaos Station dropped today. I hope you folks enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

CHAOS STATION

Gia Owens is determined to beat her predecessors’ record of one standard year as superintendent of Space Station C-4A05 of the Epsilon Interregnum, not-so-affectionately known as Chaos Station. But confluence of a race of singing trees and an illegally cloned Terran mammal might just get someone hurt. Or worse, Gia fired.

Amazon
                                                            Apple
                                                            Barnes & Noble
                                                            Google Play
                                                            Kobo

Another Monday...

...but hey! I got shit done over the weekend!

Chaos Station, a space opera short story I wrote back in January of 2025, is up for pre-sale on the usual e-book retailers.

Speaking of selling books, you need a good cover, a good blurb, and a good concept. Yes, in that order because its based on how most readers shop for new-to-them authors. Including me. But for the love of Lord Djeduti, make sure your fucking writing is good, too!

I'm not mentioning names or book titles because I'm not a totally evil skank, but I ran across a book on one of the reader newsletters I subscribe to. It clicked on the cover and blurb. The concept was delightful and unique! So, I went and read the sample at an online retailer because I'm too aware of the AI slop being shoveled into the market. And...

Holy shit! I couldn't make it past the first two pages. *facepalm* It was boring! Passive voice all over the place! And a vocabulary of a third-grader! No, it was not a kid's book either.

Honestly, if it were a taste thing, I wouldn't have said a damn word. This wasn't something a good editor could fix. And no, I don't think it was AI either. The writer is question just needed more practice before they published.

But you can't just say that to any artist. We are gentle souls and our fuckin' fee-fees are delicate and easily damaged. I'm no exception.

So, if you don't like science fiction, don't read Chaos Station and then tell me it sucks. And if you like SF and don't like Chaos Station, you don't have to tell me. Just walk away and find something else worthy of your time.

Music I've Been Listening to Lately

I've been in an Annie Lennox mood recently. Her voice fits the tang of autumn in the air.

Edit to add: I swear to Set, Thor, and all the other storm deities I picked out this video for this weekend long before Hurricane Isaias was a wave sweeping off the coast of Africa!

Changes in Retailers - Amazon

Last week, I was considering some advertising for the Bloodlines series because Sam and Ellie were both born on Halloween, and hey, the series has witches and vamps and zombies! OH MY!

Then someone at Amazon hit the wrong switch, and Blood Magick was suddenly full-price and not free. *GULP*

I'm glad a friend warned me before I paid for the damn advert! I wasn't the only indie author this happened to, and as of yesterday, Blood Magick is back to $0.00.

But in all the craziness over the last few days, I forgot to mention a couple of thing a little more positive that Amazon has done.

1) They raised the limit on retail e-book prices in order to receive 70% royalties. That's right. E-books can be priced from $2.99 to $12.99 to receive the higher royalty, instead of the old cap of $9.99.

2) Indie publishers can now set their pre-orders up to 18 months in advance. The old limit was 12 months.

3) Amazon now allows indie publishers two delays per year without any punitive action. This one I'm ecstatic about! Because sometimes life happens when you're trying to get a book out. I had to ask for delays each time mine and DH's parents died. Other writers I know have been injured in car accidents, spouses or kids required hospitalizations, houses have burned down, etc. Sometimes, you can do everything right and just have shitty life events. At least, we're no longer being penalized for acts of [Deity of your choice]!

Will I get my ad for Blood Magick out? Probably, but I don't know when. We just had to cough up four figures for some car maintenance on the one truly reliable vehicle.

Will I have another setback where I need to delay the release of a book? Oh, definitely. I'm not a spring chicken, and I'm the  medical power of attorney and executor for two family members who will probably die before me. I'm just keeping my fingers crossed we all stay relatively healthy long enough to finish up my goals for 2027 before any more shit hits the fan.

In the meantime, the e-book of Blood Magick is currently free on all retailers who carry my tomes!

Amazon
Apple
Barnes & Noble
Google Play
Kobo
Smashwords

Changes in Retailers - Draft2Digital

I think I mentioned nearly a year ago that Draft2Digital ("D2D") changed their terms and conditions regarding entry into their garden and their payment threshold. But frankly, I'm too overwhelmed to double-check older posts, so I'll repeat the salient points.

1) If you didn't already have an account by the end of 2025, you had to pay D2D $20US to enroll in their program.

2) If you don't make $100 in royalties each year, you will be charged $12US per year to continue using their program.

3) You will not be paid until they've accumulated $10US in royalties.

I only distribute to Smashwords through D2D thanks to their buy-out of Smashwords. And guess what? Suzan Harden hasn't sold a singled blessed thing on Smashwords in 2026. Not even during the Christmas in July sale.

Frankly, it ain't worth continuing, so I'll take my current offerings off sale next month.

Alter Ego has sold a handful of volumes, but royalties have not reached $12, much less the $100 necessary to avoid being charged. Unless something changes radically, I'll be taking those offerings off sale in December.

So, it's time to get on the Old Town Road and find some greener pastures.

Prices Are Getting Ridiculous

I know I'm not supposed to talk politics, but dammit! Things are going way beyond simple politics. We have a person in the highest office of our country who should be in a dementia care unit. I'm saying this as someone who spent nearly ten years dealing with my in-laws as they faded from life.

In the process, this person is making decisions that affect not just the 342.5 million people in the United States, but the other 7.7 billion other people in the world.

People are losing their jobs. Prices are rising astronomically. And food is becoming scarce.

To top it off, I work in the entertainment industry where AI is ripping off my work. I know damn well I'm not getting 10,000 people a day reading my blog. And then, AI turns around and spins my words and thousands of other writers into fake books. My cover artists' business is down because AI is stealing their work and refashioning it cheap for people without artistic talent.

The problem is the person in the White House wouldn't give a shit if he did have his facilities. But others are taking advantage of his elderly incapacity to pillage whatever they can while they can.

Plus, there's the war in Iran after he promised no new wars. There was no real reason for it, and it has destabilized the Middle East even worse than it was. The Straits of Hormuz, a common trade route is now impassable. And that mess has added to the already horrendous scarcity and inflation in the U.S.

What started this diatribe? DH needed jeans. Seriously. His current pairs are not something I want him to wear to meetings with casual clients. We weren't even looking for suits and ties. Three fucking pairs of jeans. $250.00. It would have been $300 if they weren't on sale and I had coupons. And that doesn't include the price of the three gallons of gas for the trip. Why? Because we have to go to a fucking specialty store an hour away because he's six feet-five inches tall. *facepalm*

And don't fucking tell me to order online. I generally won't for clothes because I want to know they fucking fit! 

So what do we all to to change things?

For starters, research the candidates in your area, and vote. Get out and fucking vote. Don't go by the candidates' words. Look at their actions.

You can make a difference. You can affect change. But you've got to get off your ass and do something.

I know you can. Just like I wouldn't get anywhere unless I get my butt to my desk and my fingers on my keyboard every morning.

Hang in there, everyone! We've got this! 

Music I've Been Listening to Lately

Natalie put a sweet spin on Bruce's song!