Wednesday, October 29, 2014

#83 on All of Amazon!

Massive thanks to all of you who picked up a copy of Shifter After Dark!  It just hit #83 on all of Amazon!  That is really, really hard!  So, thank you!  Please continue to tell your friends and share about this deal!  And in case you haven't gotten your copy yet... well... here you go!  99-cents!  Six books of awesome!

Amazon ~
GooglePlay ~
iBooks ~
Kobo ~
Nook ~

Monday, October 27, 2014

Shifters After Dark - featuring MY NEW BOOK!

Featuring my BRAND NEW BOOK
The Dark of Twilight

Six books for only 99-cents!
Now Available

Amazon ~
GooglePlay ~
iBooks ~
Kobo ~
Nook ~


(A $21.94 value)

Dive into six incredible fantasy worlds by NYT and USA Today bestselling authors where shifters rule! Whether it's an action-packed urban fantasy or steamy paranormal romance, this collection delivers what you crave most. Six nail-biting stories of adventure, romance, danger, suspense, alpha males, and tough heroines... Dark secrets and imprisoned hearts await. Come unlock them!

17+ due to some mature subject matter. Cliffhanger-free!

Dannika Dark - SEVEN YEARS
Melissa F. Olson - BLOODSICK (Exclusive!)
Kate Danley - THE DARK OF TWILIGHT (Exclusive!)
Phoenix Sullivan - HEARTSONG (Box Exclusive!)


When 20-year-old Summer Gresham, a coed with a secret shapeshifting ability, is singled out for a prestigious internship, she's stunned to discover Nash Adamson emphatically requested her. A rebel angel in exile, Nash has more than a few secrets of his own. With an angel war in the making and Summer at its crux, Nash has to choose what matters most: their love, or his freedom.

SEVEN YEARS by Dannika Dark
Lexi Knight hasn't seen Austin Cole since her brother's funeral seven years ago. Now a dangerous bounty hunter, Austin reveals he's also an alpha Shifter. But there's another shocking twist, putting Lexi's family in danger. Can their relationship be salvaged from the ruins of their past? Book One in a bestselling series about family, second chances, and finding that person who completes you.

Lilith Wolf, daughter of the Big Bad Wolf and Little Red Riding Hood, is in heat--and being handfasted to the first male in her village to tame her wolf isn't an option. So when Giles Damien comes calling, she journeys off with him to Fyre Mountain, crossing paths with an angry water dragon, a pub full of Merry Men, and rock dwarves with a taste for flesh ... and maybe falling in love. These are the fairy tales no one ever told you about...

BLOODSICK by Melissa F. Olson (box set exclusive)
Sashi's mother warned her not to get involved with werewolf problems. But Sashi, a witch who uses her magic to help cancer patients, has never made a habit of ignoring pain. When she meets an abused shapeshifter, Sashi will risk everything--including her fledgling relationship--to save a woman who can't save herself. An Old World novella from the author of Dead Spots, Trail of Dead, and Hunter's Trail.

THE DARK OF TWILIGHT by Kate Danley - (box set exclusive)
Ever since she was a child working in his kitchen, Aein always longed to join Lord Arnkell's army. When that day comes and she is sent on patrol with fellow warrior, Lars, it seems her dream has come true. But something has followed her home. When Arnkell's wedding is interrupted by a werewolf attack, the dream shifts into a nightmare... Book One in the brand-new epic fantasy series Twilight Shifters.

HEARTSONG by Phoenix Sullivan (box set exclusive)
By night, as a Gabriel Hound, the fae Brinn runs with The Wild Hunt. When she's unwittingly thralled by princes Alain and Pellinore, she wants only their blood to free her. Until they form a grudging bond that soon turns intimate. Love should be easy, but The Wild Hunt wants Brinn back, the Questing Beast wants Pel, and Alain wants the impossible--to keep them both at his side. An Arthurian-era PNR.

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

When It Rains

When it rains in Los Angeles,
we are all cats.
The slightest sprinkle
and we hiss.  Water which
would not merit an
umbrella keeps us indoors,
yowling at the liquid
which must be acid
falling from the sky.
We drive 5mph.  It
is a good day today
to be a duck.

-my old poetry found in a forgotten notebook

Release Day of Der Holzfäller

Do you have a German speaker in your life you think would enjoy The Woodcutter? Well, today is your lucky day! Announcing the release of the new German translation of The Woodcutter by AmazonCrossing... *drumroll*... Der Holzfäller!

I'm so proud, I might just bust my dirndl!  (FUN FACT!  I was on the 5th place Texas State Champion German folk dance team in high school and when Der Holzfäller hits 5k sales, I'll dig out some old pictures for you.  My Aquanet bangs are a wonder. Don't feel bad for me. I've actually used my polka skills far more times than calculus.)

Since so many of the fairytales featured in The Woodcutter were first recorded by the Brothers Grimm, it seems rather lovely to return this new fairytale back to its roots.  Here's to you, Wilhelm and Jacob Grimm!

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Sunday, October 5, 2014

London - 8/15/14

And so the morning dawned on my final day at RADA.  I looked around my little dorm room and realized it would be the last morning I would be there.  Tomorrow, I had to be packed and out by 10AM.  As my flatmate and I walked down the street to the school, our conversation was about the past four weeks - how it went so fast, yet went so slow; how glad we were it was over and how we didn't know what life would be like without it.  She was such a sweetheart.  Prior to school, she had spent two weeks hiking the U.K. with her dad.  The next morning, she was hopping a 7AM plane for Ireland.  She decided the night before.  She would spend a week kissing Blarney stones and sipping pints with the locals before heading back to NYC where she was working to be an actress, keeping herself afloat training in yoga and body work.  We bonded many a late evening in our little suite's kitchen over scansion and cheese.  Every morning, we would make the hike to school together.  Her with her little bag, me with my massive rolling purse stuffed with a Complete Works of Shakespeare, trainers, deodorant, and rehearsal skirt.   Eight hours a day, five days a week, plus rehearsals.  We talked about the people brave enough to stay on for another week at RADA mounting a full Shakespeare play (off book, mind you) in five days.  I wanted a nap just thinking about it.

Over the four weeks, our group worked on an hour long cutting of Richard III.  That play will forever hold a very special place in my heart.  I am more than happy to give you a complete dissertation on the Anne/Richard scene anytime you want.  Or anytime you  don't want.  I'll break out this debate whether you are in or out.

That morning, we presented our piece to another one of the groups group, who kindly presented their Midsummer Night's Dream.  There was a competition between the TAs to see who could make the best show program.

I think ours should have won.

We had our final lunch in the lunchroom on the top floor from the friendly staff who fed our hordes day in and day out always with a smile and a kind word.  Fridays meant fish and chips, but this time there was also chocolate cake.  We spent a little time debriefing on the whole experience with our group leader, who was an absolutely fabulous actress I've admired on some BBC shows.  On the first day, I had spotted her on the stage of instructors and thought to myself, "Boy, I hope I get to work with her!"

We all then went over to the main building and every one of the seven groups performed a dance piece centered around the elements and celestial heavens.  The steps were taken from historical record and the choreography passed along by this absolute darling named Darren Royston who has written a brilliant book if you are interested in such things.  Ours involved nymphs and scarves and was, I think, the best.  I know other people may have thought theirs was the best, but you should have seen us.  We nymphed the heck out of that dance.  

And then it was over.  Just like that.  Over.  Four weeks and done.

We wandered over to the local pub and the conversation was sort of this shell-shocked, "Wait.  When do you leave?  What are you doing next?  How are you doing?  Can you believe it is over?"  Some of our group left, our goodbyes and farewell hugs made while standing in the street.  The promises to stay in touch were fierce.

The rest of us continued on, for we had a reservation for a final supper.  One of the gals knew of this great little Asian fusion place with one of the best views in town.

And so we ate and we drank and we laughed until our faces hurt.  And no matter what I learned or didn't learn about Shakespeare, this was why this summer was important.  These people.  These friendships.  They endure.  We've already gone on to meet up in other places, some in Edinburgh, some in Los Angeles.  I'm headed out to NYC and London again and the #1 Must-Do Action Item on my list is to hug as many of these wonderful souls around their necks as soon as I possibly can.

But isn't that what theater is about?  I mean, sure, it's about the challenge of the role and bringing a playwright's words to life.  But really?  It is about the people you work with and the divine experience of connecting with other human beings on a level the rest of the world doesn't understand.  You get to know people's hearts, you are trusted with their most vulnerable selves... I don't know if there is a word in the human language which encompasses the magnitude of that feeling.  Perhaps it is just "love".

And so the evening wore on into the wee hours.  We caught the last train from the station.  One by one, we each peeled off as our stops came.  Some went on to celebrate more.  Some went on to madly pack.  Some went home.

I found myself at 2AM in the laundry room finishing one final load with my stinky lavender scented detergent from one of the local grocery stores.  I left the remaining soap pods for the next poor schmoe.  Now, I sort of wish I still had them, just to remember the smell.  It has already faded from my memory.

I finished packing my dorm room into my two suitcases.  I dropped off my unwanted rehearsal shoes and clothes in a donation bin out back.  I ate the last of my groceries.  I closed up my little window which barely opened ten-inches.  I left my fan.  I decided to keep my cheap mug I bought for £4 my first day.  And it was done.

Before I came, I was sure my next step would be grad school.  By the time I left, I realized my dreams had shifted.  My first day, I came down with laryngitis.  I joked that I came to London to find my voice, and ended up losing it.  But the wonderful thing about losing something that you get to find it again.

And as I turned in my key to the front desk and pushed my suitcases out the door, I realized it was time to begin...

Thursday, October 2, 2014

London - August 14, 2014

It was the eve of my final day at RADA.  Four weeks had flown by.  Kind of like that slump you get into living in a city (you know, where it takes leaving NYC to actually get yourself out to the Statue of Liberty) I found myself thinking I had not seized as much of the days as I should have.  

There is also this weird vacuum during the summertime.  All of the shows are geared towards the tourist.  If you are making plans to visit and seeing a mind-blowing production is on your agenda, go in September.  Go in January.  In the summertime, you're stuck with big commercial musicals and visual spectaculars (*as I paint with wide, generalizations).

But you can find some treasures, such as the fare at the National Theatre.


Some of the RADA gals, and a producer I sat next to at Streetcar Named Desire, had recommended Medea (which you can see a broadcast of via National Theatre Live.  They are so brilliant to do this.  I wish that Broadway would incorporate this sort of thinking into their productions.) starring Helen McCrory.  The show was sold out but a few last minute seats were released the day before, and I grabbed one.  It was bloody.  It was heart-wrenching.  Helen McCrory acted her guts out.  It was everything you want Medea to be.  The all-female Greek chorus was made of modern dancers dressed in pink 1950s dresses that got muddy and torn as the play went on.  They used an arm twitch, a foot pulse to accent the rhythms and horror of the words.  A live band scored the action the entire time.  The set was a perfect little mid-century modern house built atop a haunted forest.  Beneath the pretense of everyday life, the darkness grew.

It was 90-minutes without an intermission and moved like a freight train.

I was struck with how gutsy this play was and how it was completely sold out.  The National Theatre is a non-profit theater which produces edgy, challenging works.  Every seat was filled. Score one for art!  I love it when audiences prove they are hungry for huge ideas and will support theater that makes them view the world differently.

The other thing that the National does is they make it affordable.

A recent study showed that per capita in the U.K. more people attend theatre than sporting events.  You can feel what a difference that makes.  It's important.

Anyways, the closest underground station was undergoing renovations, which meant I had a lovely evening stroll along the South Bank.  I ran across this cool skate park tucked next door to all sorts of schwank restaurants.

I strolled across the Thames to my tube station.

And got a view of one of my favorite buildings in the city.

Just a quiet stroll in the quiet night, my head full of thoughts knowing that tomorrow would be my last day at RADA and the start of a brand new adventure.