Wednesday, 28 May 2014

Your Mid-Week Update for 05/28/14

I’m worried about Sandra. She has been acting out a lot lately. I understand teenage angst but this is ridiculous. She has been moody and loud; she can barely look me in the eye anymore and she spends so much time in her room, I fear for her hygiene. She’s always been a very social girl but ever since her school’s security guard passed on she’s been...different. Frankly it’s been getting on my nerves.

So I decided to do something about it.

I wish I hadn’t.

I should feel horrible for snooping but I feel worse about what I found.

In the back of her closet I found a bulletin board overflowing with newspaper clippings. They dated back over fifteen years.

They were mine. My murders. Over a hundred of them at least. She figured me out when only one other person has. Or at least she thinks she has. She’s found a connection and sooner or later she’s going to connect it back to me.

Obviously I can’t kill her – not yet anyway – but I have to do something. I’m going to talk to James tonight to see if we can find a solution but I’m really worried about Sandra.

I honestly never wanted the kids to have to find out about my double life. A parent’s darkness should not overshadow their child.

That’s pretty deep; someone should write that down.

Anyways, I hope that Sandra doesn’t connect the dots any more than she has.

For her sake and for mine.

And for Jason’s sake as well, I suppose. Eventually Sandra’s going to tell him what she knows and I’m afraid he’s going to take it out on James. Men – boys – tend to go after their father figures and James is the only one Jason has ever had, even before his mother went up the creek. I’d hate for him to lose that and I just know that Jason would find a way to blame him.


So really it’s in the best interest of my entire family if Sandra doesn’t take her little Nancy Drew act any further. I just hope I can find a peaceful solution.

Pray for me.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe
This is a work of fiction. Any events or characters that bear any resemblance to real life is strictly coincidence and unintentional

Wednesday, 21 May 2014

Your Mid-Week Update for 05/21/14

I have been a little busy this week, dear readers. I attended a conference this weekend and I killed a young woman working at the hotel. She didn't do anything particularly wrong, I was just really bored between sessions. There's only so much you can do when you're stuck in a hotel waiting for yet another lecture from yet another stuffed shirt who doesn't quite know what he's talking about. 

Killing people in hotels is difficult. I don't know if you've ever thought about it but you cannot be spontaneous; these kills take careful planning. Unlike victims number 501 through 503. Those kills were nostalgically easy. Like, rat poison in the tea in line at Starbucks, run you over on your morning jog, and take your head off with a tire iron behind the gas station, easy. 

Hotel kills are hard.

There is security everywhere, you need a key for basically every room, and you are watched every second you're in that building. Except in the private rooms and some of the staff areas. For this kill - for me - it didn't matter so much that it was creative, or that the body was never found; I just wanted her dead. I was very careful about finding exactly where all of the security cameras were on the floor below mine. Not too many, it would be easy to slip through the hallways and into a room with relative subtlety. 

Plus, the hotel gave me an early birthday present: one of the elevators was under repair and there were men working on it while I was there. It was fate. Or a poorly managed hotel, one of the two.

Because I was on a nostalgia kick I decided to go a little bloody and messy. Knife. Not the easiest kill but I do love working with my hands on occasion. So, I made a point of talking to both of the maids working on the floor, asking for extra towels, that sort of thing, and I followed the first woman into a room on my way out - obviously to ask for more toilet paper. 

When she turned her back to me, I drove the steak knife I'd swiped from dinner into her spine and watched her drop to the floor in shock. I don't think I hit the nerve I was aiming for but she did begin to bleed out. She was a small woman, elderly with kind eyes. I found it difficult to understand her English but she was very friendly. Even when the lights went out - so slowly, I was starting to get bored - she didn't look angry or sad like so many of my victims. She peace. It was refreshing. 

Thank god I packed an extra suitcase because she fit inside the empty one with very little bone breakage, I zipped her up and went on my way. 

I rode the elevator up to the top floor, walked over to the elevator currently under construction, very quickly opened the doors, unzipped my suitcase and let her fall. It was all over in maybe a matter of ten minutes. 

And it was surprisingly satisfying. I know I've said I like the long, drawn out kills but this one was new for me. I've never been so close to the danger of being caught - not in a long time anyways. That part was thrilling as hell. I cannot wait to do it again.

From what I heard from my co-workers on Monday morning, they found her body on the 8th floor. And the 12th and the 3rd. The cameras just happened to be malfunctioning on the top floor - which I honestly had nothing to do with; like I said: Christmas - so there was no way to tell what actually happened to her. They're thinking she killed herself and because the body is in pieces there's no real way to find the cause of death. 
Although I heard one man complaining to the front desk that the bottle of wine they'd ordered the night before had dropped and spilled everywhere, creating a large, red stain on the carpet.


I rather enjoyed this kill. It was a little old school and it was certainly a little stressful and dramatic but it was fun. Made me feel kind of like an assassin. Not that I ever would become an assassin. No real freedom. They're so limited by who hires them to do the kills. I don't like those kind of restrictions. But for a while, it was nice to pretend.

And now I'm back to reality and I have to deal with the troubles of being me. As we all do.

As always, dear readers,

Stay Safe
This is a work of fiction. And persons or events with familiarity to real life are incidental and unintentional.

Saturday, 17 May 2014

Day Five in New Orleans

Today has just flown buy which seems insane seeing as I was in line by 6am for the Big Book Fair. The ten of us in line shared a lot of laughs, talked about a lot of different things, and even volunteered once the crowds became unmanageable – I was the best line organizer EVER!

As horrible as it is to be standing in line for 5 hours it means that you get first dibs at basically any book, any author that you want. So I got to meet all of these amazing (fairly well known and popular) authors who were so friendly and I was geeking out and there was barely any line. It was just great. I mean, the lines filled up fairly quickly in that event so after a few authors the lines got long but I mean, I met Jennifer Armentrout twice in one day, I’ve seen Victoria Dahl four times this week (don’t tell Cyndi); I met some amazing YA, NA, and Adult writers who were so happy to sell their books, talk to you and sign their books and geek out with you. I was only in there for about an hour and a half before I got really overwhelmed but it was an hour and a half well spent.

Most of the afternoon and evening was spent sorting and packing because tomorrow is a pretty simple day and I wanted to get as much packing done as possible now. Of course I then spent another 3 hours in another line for another room full of books (this one much less organized) which I did not have room in my suitcase for. But it was free food, lots of interaction, met some new authors.
Today was all about the books. However, because of my early morning, I am too tired to finish packing so we’ll see if I can get it done before going to bed. I get to sleep in tomorrow so I am going to milk that.

While Cyndi is off socializing right now, making friends or whatever, I am here – talking to you guys – just trying to stay awake. The things I do for you guys.

Speaking of which: I am bringing back a crap-ton of books and swag with me, more than I know what to do with.

Who would be up for a contest later with some surprise swag bags put together with prizes from the RT Booklovers Convention?

Friday, 16 May 2014

Day Four in New Orleans

I’m a little distracted by Cyndi yelling at her books as she categorizes them so excuse me if this is somehow less coherent than my other posts this week. We spent the morning at another long-lined event but we had breakfast beside a cover model

Shut up, Cyndi, I’m trying to blog about you!

So we had breakfast with this cover model named Jeremy who was really sweet and we all got our picture taken with him and it was awesome. I personally attended three more panels on craft (writing concise novels, writing urban fantasy, and writing high intensity scenes) before getting in line for the Krewe of Muses Book Event.

This is a big event hosted by Avon in which a bunch of their authors get in a room with a bajillion of their books and just sign for hours. It’s awesome and crowded and extremely loud but there were tons of free books, we got to talk to some awesome authors (I fangirled a little because Cora Carmack remembered doing a blog post on my blog). I came back with way too many books but man, was it awesome.

The real story comes from the lineup waiting to get into the event. I sat for 3 hours in line and I was not the first person, either. There were several of us lined up for 3 hours. And we talked and laughed and discussed some pretty random things. Everything from tips and tricks of managing the RT madness to the Disney Vacation Club (or whatever it’s called) to The Mummy Returns and how the only thing not awesome about it is the inaccuracy of the fight scene between Nefertiti and Ankh-su-na-mun. I will say this: I have met some amazing people in lines.

That’s one of my favourite parts of RT. Connecting with authors and readers from all sort of genres and locations (some from Alberta, even) who are just obsessed with what they do: books. It’s incredibly inspiring. I haven’t been outside enough to absorb the wander of New Orleans for its richness but these people, I tell you, they’re incredible.

And they go all out when it comes to parties and costumes. Some of the Mardi Gras costumes were so elaborate they were taking people out when they turned their heads. Cyndi and I both got up and entered the costume contest but we were no match for these Dark and Light characters. I don’t know if it’s the insanity of the written word or just being in New Orleans, but people love their costumes. And they love dark as much as light which is wonderful to see.

Cyndi says she’s neurotic but dedicated. She told me to write that.

We’re both currently preparing for tomorrow’s festivities. I feel like it’s going to be rather underwhelming on a whole but we’ll see what happens. We’re adding a bunch more people (on Day Passes) to the mix so we’ll see how long it takes me to go psycho killer and throw all the bodies down the elevator shaft.

Oh, and Rachel Caine has scarred me for elevators. Look her up.

Thursday, 15 May 2014

Day Three in New Orleans

Cyndi Tefft is an adorable lightweight. One drink on Bourbon Street and she was gone, giddily telling all the models how hot they were and dancing to her heart’s content. Fair warning to all who go out with her: she’s just adorable. I’m so glad I got to spend the week with her.

I’m finding that the big group events (like the “Casino” this morning) are quite dull. There’s little time to interact with the authors, and you spend more time standing in line than you do anything else. It’s the same with the Pub Crawl today. Nearly 2000 women simultaneously descended upon Bourbon Street just to stand in ridiculously long lines and get more Mardi Gras beads. I mean meeting new people and hanging out in a new city is great but the hurry-up-and-wait mentality is really getting to me.

Which is why at one point today I ditched my plan to attend another big event and went to a small panel on writing fight scenes and I was so glad I did. I definitely plan on attending as many Craft Workshops as possible for the last few days of the conference.

I will say this, though: I make an amazingly adorable but strangely sexy demon. Just saying. I practically inspire my own characters.

Oh and also, Cyndi finally met Victoria Dahl in person and she was so cute as she was getting her picture taken.

That’s all.

Wednesday, 14 May 2014

Day Two in New Orleans

I would blog more about today’s events but it’s after 11pm, I’m sitting here in curlers with a glass of what I assume is sprite and Cyndi’s bouncing on her bed cataloguing all the books she got today.

We’re a little delirious.

Apparently 7am was a late start. A lot of people we talked to were up at 4 and 5, off to the gym to work out. What happened to writer’s being sedentary creatures?

I also now have more Mardi Gras beads than I know what to do with. Most of them I acquired while waiting in the registration line this morning, having grabbed a handful from the bag when it was offered to me. When in New Orleans? Is that a thing?

Today’s theme was apparently: Sex Education. It was actually very entertaining. Three of the four panels I attended were about writing sex and romance scenes which was very helpful to me. You know my fear of sex scenes so it was nice to see all these writers having open and honest conversations about the actual art of sex scenes, writing Contemporary sex with an emphasis on realism, and writing LGBTQ characters (which, honestly, was not as informative as I was expecting but still entertaining).

From what I heard, Cyndi got a little distracted by sparkly things and came back with masks and swag galore. She was a little giddy by that point. It was hilarious.

The two social events involved dressing like a pirate, scalawag, or wench, getting on a bus and driving down to Mardi Gras World. It’s this huge warehouse where they store all of the Mardi Gras floats. The tour itself was fairly brief, we got ushered through the facility quite quickly; but afterwards we headed into this separate room set up with a band, New Orleans inspired food and too many people.

Again, by now you know that I’m hopeless and awkward and desperate for love. Most of the time that comes out in spades when I’m in large crowds. I get anxious in large crowds of people and this was a lot of people so I was getting headaches and grumpy. But then they put food in my belly (red beans and rice, beignets, and bananas foster) and I got to meet two incredibly awesome women and the rest of the night was dirty jokes, giggles, and dancing.

The rest is history…well…it’s right now. Happening right now.

Oh, and Cyndi wanted me to tell you that she’s awesome and not a loser.

That’s all.

Your Mid-Week Update for 05/14/14

This week is very important, dear readers, for one very special reason:
On Monday I did my 500th kill. I know, it seems a ridiculous number – too large to be real – but I did it. I’ve been doing this – killing – for nearly 20 years and I’ve kept track of every single person. From my very first kill at age 17 to this most recent, bloody murder; I remember all of them. I didn’t mean to keep track but curiosity got the better of me and I now have notebooks of victims. I am one of the most successful serial killers to have ever lived and no one even knows it. Not once in the 19 years that I have been taking lives has the media as a whole discovered the connection between 500 victims.
It should be a point of pride for me – the police are looking for 500 different killers instead of just one – but it just bothers me that people can be so clueless. It’s baffling, really. No one has ever thought to call me ‘serial killer’ and it bothers me.
Even James who has been nothing but loving and supportive is putting me off. He was so proud of me on Monday; I love the way his eyes light up when I tell him about a kill. He made me this amazing dinner and we watched the news as the 500th body was discovered and it was so sweet and romantic; but I just couldn’t stop thinking about it. He even picked out victim number 501 in that sexy voice that he does but my mind was somewhere else.
We had been dating for about three months when we finally used to term “serial killer”. Even back then he could light up a room with his smile when I talked about gutting some poor bastard on the street. But he said something to me that night that I’ve never forgotten.
“Honey, you don’t behave like a serial killer. I don’t know what you are.”
I’m not entirely sure what he meant, I couldn’t read him as well as I can now, but I do know one thing:
I. Am. A Serial Killer.
You want to know how I know that? Because I follow the damn guidelines.
According to the Federal Bureau of Investigation the definition of a serial murder is: The unlawful killing of two or more victims by the same offender(s), in separate events.
That’s it. Nothing about means or motive; nothing about wetting the bed or lighting things on fire. Just. Death. You know, not all of us live in our mom’s basements or are sociopathic criminal masterminds. Most of us are just in between.
And before you ask, no, I am not in some serial killer chat room. In fact I’ve never met another serial killer – for good reason, those people cannot be trusted – but I keep up with current events so I’m familiar with most active serial killers in the country.
It’s not hard to find this information. People are obsessed with death – murder specifically. In a way I’m just feeding the masses. So yes, I would like a little more credit for the things I’ve done over the last 20 years. Am I suddenly going to start turning into some anti-social freak and develop some distinctive killing pattern? Hell no.
A thank you or maybe some flowers would be nice.
That’s all I’m saying.
As always, dear readers,
Stay Safe
This is a work of fiction. Any persons or events that resemble real life is unintentional

Tuesday, 13 May 2014

Day One in New Orleans

Alright so Day One of RT in New Orleans is complete. Technically it’s starts tomorrow but let’s face it, the party arrives when I do. New Orleans itself is drop dead gorgeous. I’m staying in a hotel on the edge of the French Quarter and all afternoon there was music pouring into my hotel room from somewhere. When you first arrive from the airport it is exactly like every other city I’ve ever been in: industrial, lots of billboards for strip clubs, and a strange odour that just seeps through the cab windows.

The first thing that struck me was the cemetery. You already knew I was insane, this should not come as a shock to you. We were in “average city”-ville until we hit the Greenville Cemetery and then it was like someone flipped a switch and you were in this magical land where the buildings are as old as the trees they surround and every abandoned and desolate building has an amazing story to tell. Even the lights of the city at night, usually red, white, and yellow, are purples and oranges and shades of ghostly blue.

I don’t know what it is about this city but it just has its own magic.

I attended two events today. In my pajamas. It was amazing.

The New Adult Pajama Party was an amazing way to meet some NA authors and just hang out with readers and writers. There were hand massages, beer pong (with water), Truth or Dare, a fortune teller, everything you would want at a slumber party for several hundred women in a room for two hours. Everyone has been insanely friendly and helpful and just goofy.

The YA Spooky Sleepover was a room full of those same girls, pigging out, telling and writing ghost stories, playing games and showing off their slippers. One thing I will say: Go Big or Go Home. I was a little hesitant when it came to dressing up for events but when you’re sitting beside a woman in leopard-print footie pajamas, you feel underdressed for a slumber party. I also learned that I do not write well under pressure. 5 minutes is not long enough for a table of writers to tell a ghost story. Most of them turned out to be a little…nonsensical (*cough* Cyndi’s table wrote about a Frankenstein chicken with shark teeth).

But now I am exhausted and have a crap ton of swag to sort through before bed. And maybe I’ll eat today.

This is going to be an awesome week!

Thursday, 8 May 2014

Luminary Cover Reveal

You all know about my epic love for the Faylinn series. So naturally when Mindy Hayes was asking for help with the cover reveal for her third book I jumped at the chance. And here we have it ladies and gentlemen. Are you ready?

How gorgeous is this?

While I'm over here gushing, here's all the info you'll need to know:

Luminary (Faylinn #3)
Release Date: September 4, 2014
Genre: Young Adult Fantasy

Heartbroken and a prisoner in her own castle, it is time for Calliope to take matters into her own hands. Mere days remain until she is bound to Sakari and the Waking Oak is destroyed. It seems hopeless, but Calliope is determined to fight.

Loyal to the core, Sakari has always respected and followed his father’s direction, but Adair is pushing boundaries Sakari isn’t sure he wants to cross. Yet remaining loyal to his kingdom may hurt the ones he loves the most.

Kai has a plan to save Faylinn. It’s risky and will require a sacrifice that may cost him his life, but if he doesn’t try, Calliope will be lost to him forever.

War in Faylinn is fast approaching. Hearts will be broken. Sacrifices will be made. Lives will be lost. Only the strongest will be left standing.

Author Bio:

Mindy is the author of the YA Fantasy Faylinn series, Kaleidoscope (Faylinn #1), and Ember (Faylinn #2), as well as the Contemporary Romance, Me After You (Willowhaven #1). Currently, she's working on Luminary (Faylinn #3) and Me Without You (Willowhaven #2).
She grew up in San Diego, California exploring her interest for singing and playing the piano. Mindy first discovered her passion for reading when she had to make her first flight alone to South Carolina to visit her, then, fiancé. Her love for writing followed shortly after. Mindy and her husband have now been married for six years and live in Summerville, South Carolina.

Social Media Links:

Wednesday, 7 May 2014

Your Mid-Week Update for 05/07/14

I thought I was pregnant this past week, dear readers. I’m not going to lie. I was terrified. It’s one thing to care for two teenagers who aren’t actually your own but to raise a child – give birth to one – is a completely different matter. One I’m not sure I’m ready for.

I’m not even sure that I want children of my own. I don’t necessarily hate my niece and nephew but to have actually raised them from birth? It’s not something I would have wanted to do and be proud of.

I don’t want kids. I’m certain of that fact now that I think about it. I would never want children of my own.

And thank god James agrees with me.

We were talking about it last week – I remember thinking it was out of the blue – and we both agreed that given our lifestyles, having a child would seriously impede on our personal lives. No more date nights, no more last minute holidays, no more sex on kitchen floor. It’d be horrible.
And yes, we do have sex on the kitchen floor and yes, it is as uncomfortable as it sounds. But things happen. Sometimes the kids are out for the afternoon and James is making lunch. Without his shirt on – it’s a Saturday. And sometimes I surprise him. In the kitchen. Without a shirt on. It happens.
It’s actually kind of fun.

When we have the house to ourselves we tend to have sex in weird places and that’s not the point of this post.

Well it is but we’ll get to that.

The point is, if we had a kid we couldn’t live our lives the way that we do. We would never have the house to ourselves. We’d never have any privacy; I’d have less time to kill, he’d have less time to chase me. It’d be a disaster.

Which is why I was so panicked when this weekend rolled around and I realized I was…late. Really late. And then I remembered Tuesday night a few weeks ago. Jason was “studying at the library” with his girlfriend and Sandra was at yet another band practice. James and I had the house to ourselves for a few hours and he decided to make a date night out of it. We don’t get as many date nights as we’d like. He’s had to pull a few extra shifts at the station – which I apologized for – and since I’ve started being a little more spontaneous with my kills I’ve become a little...overzealous with my body count. So when we get a rare night off we take it.

That particular night was quite special. You’ll recall my mother’s mysterious hold on me which temporarily prevented me from committing murder. That afternoon, I had broken free and killed a young man on the bus. It was a pretty big deal. And James wanted to celebrate so he took the night off of work and we went out to a nice dinner.

Ladies (and Gentlemen, I don’t judge), my husband can wear a suit. He wears it very well. All clean shaven and toned muscles in a fitted jacket. And he’s all mine ladies (and gentlemen). After I killed one of the waiters who had very slow service, I dragged my cop husband home by his loosened tie and ravaged him, like any good homicidal maniac, on the kitchen counter – where we keep the steak knives.

We were very eager that night.

We might have (definitely) forgotten protection.

And this weekend I realized I might be pregnant. Needless to say I was not expecting this to happen now.

Skipping over the panic attacks, and the random stabbings that you might here about on the news when the bodies are found, I had a doctor’s appointment yesterday and was told – rather quickly and in no uncertain terms – that I was not pregnant. It turns out my spontaneous killing cycle has affected other cycles as well and it’s all perfectly normal. James and I, of course, celebrated by making very sure that we rolled a condom on before we fucked against the window in the guest bedroom. Totally normal. Right?

So in conclusion: Murder is fun, I hate kids, and James and mine’s sex life is better than ever.

If there’s a moral or a lesson in there somewhere I’m not finding it. Good luck.

And as always, dear readers,

Stay Safe

This is a work of fiction. Any relation to events or persons past or present is unintentional.