Morgan Chronicles

An adventure, to discover my past, with my friend the dragon.  I couldn't help but smile as my spirit lifted.  Knowing someone else wanted to help me, would support me, and wanted to be with me made me happy.

We slid out of bed, Rhaelgyr conjuring us new clothes.  He chose an outfit life before; vest of suede, poofy sleeved shirt, suede pants, and knee-high leather boots.  The dragons tied his hair back as I made my selection.

He'd brought up a variety of clothes.  Each outfit hung on a rack, on display for me.  Silk top and billowy shirt.  Leather corset and pants.  Cotton shirt and jeans.  Vest and pants just like the dragon.

It was just clothes, but it seemed somewhat important.  If I dressed like Rhaelgyr, it was like I was declaring us a couple.  Picking Steven's outfit gave that crazy man a hold on me.

Why didn't Rhaelgyr have anything that I hadn't already worn before?

I needed something different, something nobody had picked for me before.  This was my journey of discovery, and I wanted something strictly my own.  But what was it I wanted?

What was it I wanted to be?

I'd already decided I wanted to be free of everyone else.  I wanted to be my own person, make my own way.  I wanted to just explore for a while.  Kind of like a self-imposed exile, but without the lost soulmate.  Maybe a life of adventure, or helping people, or just amusing myself.

Adventure appealed to me, as it had before.  Follow the flows of the universe, go wherever chance took me.  I gravitated to a poofy shirt, and the denim jeans.  Short boots and an open vest completed it.  Practical underwear fir me tight, and Rhaelgyr watched as I dressed.

Facing him, I held my arms out, on display.  "What do you think?"

The dragon raised one brow.  "Nice collection of colors."

I was like a peacock.  A color blind peacock.  Chewing my lip, I concentrated on making everything match.

Magic moved in me.  Different that Chaos magic, this was stiff and stately.  Something clicked in my head, and I moaned softly.  The whole room felt like it shifted, and Rhaelgyr gave a surprised cry.

Opening my eyes with a smile, I glanced down.  Head to toe, I was dressed in mist gray.  Even my hair had gone silvery.

"Morgan the Gray, indeed," Rhaelgyr muttered.

"Now I'm ready."

Featured author and random ramblings

So, Lily Oak at Hedge-Witchery liked me enough to put me up as one of her Featured Authors.  Squee!  Not just squee because I love attention (which I do), but because I feel honored.  Someone chose me.  I didn't ask.  She was so impressed with my writing, she did this on her own.

And that's bloody awesome.

I've been caught up with rewrites, and being sick, so I haven't done much of anything this week.  Of course, a lot of people are at the Romantic Times convention.  I can't wait until I'm at a point in my career that I can consider going to a convention.  Working full-time, and having people dependent on that income makes it a little hard to think about traveling and going to cons.

Skimming through author's blogs on one of my writing boards makes me realize something about myself; I don't really want to teach about writing, nor know how to.  I've been told I have a great voice when I'm making some statement, but I don't really feel it.  What room do I have to teach others?  I don't know how to explain what I do.  I've just been studying and working at writing for years.

Besides, there are others out there who can teach way better than I can.

My decision, then, is to not ever really post about how to write.  If prompted, I might talk about my own process, such as it is, but being a teacher just isn't in me.  Which is going to make my guest post in October really strange.  o,.,o

Morgan Chronicles

No graphic sex.  So sorry.  o,.,o  I'm saving that for when I write the real book.

***

Hours passed as Rhaelgyr and I had our ways with each other.  It was like nothing I'd ever experienced.  Not just that I had no memories, but no impressions or vague recollections.  I was forging new memories, and Rhaelgyr was a great man to do so with.

We sprawled across the bed, Rhaelgyr lapping at the wounds on my hips.  They didn't hurt, just tingled pleasantly as his tongue passed by.  Everything about me currently ached, and I still tasted his blood in the back of my throat.

It was so nice, I wished we could stay like this for a while.

Rhaelgyr made his way up my spine, kissing and licking.  He nuzzled into my hair, purring, and I sighed in response.

"Where's your necklace?" he asked, kissing my ear.

I gave a wordless answer, not wanting to move.  Rhaelgyr was warm, and I just wanted him to cuddle against me.

"Your necklace, my dear."  He massaged my shoulder, breathing into my hair.  "You wore one when we first met."

I chuckled languidly.  "You noticed such a tiny detail?"  I rolled over, cupping his face.

He licked my wrist.  "I noticed it as a source of power."

Some of my relaxation left.  "It was just a necklace."

Rhaelgyr traced the outside of my thigh.  "It was a little more than that."

I didn't argue with him.  Why would he lie about something like that?  Instead, I concentrated on when I'd lost it.  When was the last time I'd had it on?

The dragon paused, lifting his mouth from my breastbone.  He frowned, and I bit my lip.  "You didn't have it before the sex den."  Blue eyes turned away from me.  "I don't think you had it at all in the market."

It was just a necklace.  I shouldn't be getting worked up about it.  But back with the vampires, I'd needed to have it back.  It was important, a part of my vocation.

The false vocation I'd thought I belonged to after my father wiped my memories.

I sat up, touching the hollow of my neck.  I'd had it with Kurlog, and had it when I first met Rhaelgyr.  The dragon said it hadn't been with me at the market.

Sometime between running from Rhaelgyr and meeting him again, I'd lost it.  Or had it taken.

I told myself again that it didn't matter.  But it felt like it mattered.  There was something I was missing.  A laugh built slowly.  There was a lot I was missing.

Rhaelgyr took my hand.  "What's wrong?"

I shook my head.  "I thought I could escape my past.  I thought it didn't matter."  Rhaelgyr tugged me closer, and I hesitated.  "But it does matter.  All of it matters.  There could be any number of things lurking in my past, and I'd never know it."

The dragon wrapped his arms around me.  "Then let's discover it."

Pausing, I looked up at him.  "Really?"

He smiled, long past his maudling moment.  Longing for Falyra was replaced by the idea of a new adventure.  "Yes, really.  Let's do it."  I smiled, caught by his enthusiasm.  "You're too intriguing for me to abandon you now."

I nodded my head, spirit rising.  It was great to have a plan.

Weekly wrap up

*grumbles*  This was supposed to go up last week.

This week was a little bleaurgh.  Haven't been sleeping well, so I've been really lethargic and snappy.  It's annoying. to say the least.

I have gotten some writing done, so I don't feel it's a total waste.  Did accidentally post Morgan Chronicles out of order.  Have made some headway on the rewrites for my sequel.  Got a couple more guest blogs set up.  And am going to be a featured author (I'll post again when it goes live) at the beginning of May.  Huzzah for Beltane.

Not bad there.

Still need to do some revamping on my site and blog.  And to do something with my named url.  I haven't touched that since I bought it.

Always on the lookout for more reviewers or people to let me come guest blog.  I've decided that I'm going to start posting short stories on most of the blogs I visit.  I read somewhere about another author doing that, and I really liked the idea.  I mean, I'm a writer, and I'm pretty decent at it (someone compared me to Charlaine Harris), but I don't feel like I'm a teacher.  So, instead of writing things about "the bis", I want to do what I do best; tell stories.

And I figure it's a better way to get strangers to read my work, than to just jump up and down crying "read my book!"

Getting closer to my birthday.  Less and less time to enter my contest to win autographed book copies.

Going to a friend's wedding next week.  Still haven't bought the gifts.  That's the hardest part of a friend who's already been married and is older; they have everything already.  >.<

Morgan Chronicles

The Galdonian was dead, and the clan was pleased.  Rhaelgyr was a hero.  He released the memory, and we came back to reality.

I was still craddled in the dragon's arms, comfortable and relaxed.  Caught in his gaze, our spirits still sparked against each other.  This was a nice place to be.

Rhaelgyr said nothing, just stared at me from beneath half-closed eyes.  He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and I flushed.  "Hero of the clan," I murmurred.

He looked away, stiffening.  "Not when it counted."

I rose to my knees, laying a hand over his heart.  "What about that fight you just showed me?  Didn't that count?"

The dragon kept his eyes averted.  "I let Falyra down."  Rhaelgyr's voice was a soft whisper, laced with pain.

How could he be this mopey?  Grabbing his chin, I jerked his face toward me.  "You saved everyone else.  You helped me.  I'm probably not the first person ou've helped."

He couldn't meet my gaze.  The loss of Falyra was too painful.  I helped him put the memories away the only way I could think of.

I kissed him.

Rhaelgyr froze, but didn't resist me.  I continued kissing him, straddling him, running fingers through his long hair.  I moaned, sliding my tongue into his mouth.

I was breathing heavily when I broke the kiss.  "Let's forget everything else tonight.  Let's just be together."  I leaned in to kiss his neck.

The dragon sighed, sliding his hands up my hips.  "I don't want to hurt you," he said between kisses.

"I can handle a little pain."  I licked his ear lobe.

"I don't want you to get attached."

Laughing, I bit his neck hard, drawing a gasp.  "We can just have sex, silly."  Biting his neck again, I reached for the laces of his shirt.

Rhaelgyr gave no further resistance.  He gave me his neck, helping me undress him.  His breath was ragged, and he moaned in my ear.  I tingled all over, shivering, writhing in his lap.

The dragon's forked tongue met mine, and I wondered what exactly I was up to.  Why was I doing this?  Rhaelgyr clenched a hand in my hair, and every nerve responded to his touch.  I moaned softly, and he rolled me to my back.

This was why I was doing this; because it was dangerous and different.  Because Rhaelgyr was dragon, and had no love for me.  This would be enjoyment only.

Baring my neck to him, I slid hands under his shirt.  Rhaelgyr's skin was like suede; soft and supple, but different than my own skin.  Would it welt like normal skin?  I scratched his chest, wanting to know.

He hissed, biting my shoulder, leaning back, eyes narrowed.  Rhaelgyr pulled me robe apart, and I tingled.  With more daring than I expected, I reached up to tear his shirt open.

The dragon held still, letting me examine him.  His chest was tight and muscular, criss-crossed with scars.  Dark blue nipples tightened as I stared, and I couldn't help but smile.

"Oh my," was all I could say.  Rhaelgyr smiled, revealing pointy teeth, and fell on me.

Morgan Chronicles

Well, I got this one all out of order.  >.<  This post was supposed to go before the one on the 20th.  I fail.  They'll be in proper order in the index.

***

I was stunned, but not as stunned as Marlyra.  "What do you think you're doing?"  Gone was any sense of protocol; this was a mother protecting her offspring.

Young Rhaelgyr stared at the Galdonian, fists clenched.  "Protecting the clan."  He stepped forward without weapon.

~Were you really that stupid?~

Rhaelgyr chuckled.  ~Brave.  I was being brave.~

I snorted, watching the scene play out.

Young Rhaelgyr pressed forward.  The Galdonian hunter was unperturbed by the youth.  Honorable combat had no age restrictions, it seemed.  But the dragon was unarmed.  That should count for something.

Galdon moved aside, allowing young Rhaelgyr access to Faelgyr's body.  Marlyra watched, arms crossed beneath her breasts, face a stoic mask.  I feared the fight, illogic as that was.  Rhaelgyr was cuddling with me; he couldn't have lost this fight.

But I couldn't help it.

Metal shrieked on obsidian as young Rhaelgyr retrieved Faelgyr's sword.  Not nearly as muscular as he was now, the young dragon was nonetheless martially skilled.  He held the sword easily, like it was an extension of himself.  His grin was more a threat display, a baring of teeth at the enemy.

The Galdonian waited for the youth.  His shoulders relaxed, as if young Rhaelgyr were no threat.  Swinging his sword in lazy figure eights, he took his eyes off the dragon to stare at the rest of the clan.  "Which of you is next?"

Galdon's words stung young Rhaelgyr.  With a wild cry, the youth lunged, sword held straight before him.  Galdon batted the attack aside, lazily tripping young Rhaelgyr.

Or, should have tripped.

The dragon nimbly dodged the hunter's foot, spinning as he landed, laying open the Galdonian's leg from his to knee.  Blood sprayed, the hunter hissed, and the clan roaded.

~You tricked him!~

~Of course.~  Rhaelgyr chuckled again.  ~I'm proud, not stupid.~

Galdon took young Rhaelgyr serious then.  His guard came up, turning his body to protect his left leg.  Eyes narrowed, his sword weaved with purpose as he watched young Rhaelgyr circle.

Marlyra watched with a sharp frown, all her weight on one leg.  She watched her son intently, fingers twitching with each of his movements.  It looked like she lunged when he lunged, pirouetted when he pirouetted, and dodged when he dodged.

~What is she doing?~ I asked quietly.

~She trained me.  She's just doing what she would do.~

~But wasn't she angry that you challenged him?~  Rhaelgyr laughed at my question, and we finished watching the fight.

Young Rhaelgyr kept Galdon on the defensive.  He looked like he was dancing in and out, slashing and stabbing, drawing blood a dozen times.  The hunter lashed out, scoring the dragon only once.

The Galdonian became frustrated, and launched himself at young Rhaelgyr.  Dark eyes widened in surprise as the dragon stumbled back, struggling to keep his guard up.  Amazing how quick the fight had turned.

Young Rhaelgyr tripped over Faelgyr's body.  Marlyra hissed in concern, stepping forward.  Galdon yelled, reversing his grip on the sword, lifting his sword high.  The dragon's watched helplessly as their prince's death came.

Galdon's blow connected.  Young Rhaelgyr cried out, even as he squirmed.  The blade punched through his chest, but missed his heart.  The hunter tried to pull back, but the dragon was faster.  The Galdonian froze, staring mutely as his prey returned the blow.

Blood sprayed, and the fight was over.

Great post

I had to share this post.  Joe Konrath has become my personal idol when it comes to publishing, and promoting, and fun stuff.

He's a genius.

Morgan Chronicles

I don't know why I immediately feared for Faelgyr.  The dragon had taken a tall form, a head taller than his opponent.  Though not as muscled as the Galdonian, Faelgyr was powerful beneath his leather armor.  His gray hair was cut short, though lifted into a mohawk.  His nose was broken, and a scar gleamed across his cheeks.

Galdon, as good a name as any, drew his sword and waited.  Faelgyr grinned, summoning a sword from the aether.  They began circling then, slowly drawing closer.  The rest of the clan remained quiet, hovering, merely watching.

Taking Faelgyr's place was a juvenile dragon.  I frowned, recognizing Rhaelgyr.  ~Why isn't this memory from your point of view?~

He chuckled.  ~Because I'm not exactly sharing the actual memory.~

I had to prompt him to continue.  ~So what is it?~

~This is more like how a bard works.  I'm telling you a story, forming it in my mind, and sharing it with you.~

~Is it made up?~  I let my attention wander from the warriors who still hadn't joined.

~Not exactly.  I'm using clan memories for the places I wasn't.~

~That's really neat.~

~It has its uses,~ he said with a grin.


Galdon swung, a light attack to test Faelgyr's guard.  The dragon blocked easily, returning the strike.  They continued testing each other, exchanging light blows, shifting their weight, still circling.  Dragons waited with bated breath.

Faelgyr lunged, the hunter dodged, and the dragon twisted to follow up.  Blood was drawn, and the battle was properly joined.

The hunter swung, sword arcing down.  Faelgyr blocked, stepping back as the hunter rained blow after blow upon him.  The dragon growled, blocking another overhead strike.  Faelgyr forced the other's sword up, and barreled forward to slam into the Galdonian.

With a laugh, Faelgyr went on the offensive.  He jabbed and slashed, driving Galdon back.  Metal sparked and clashed, Faelgyr laughing or growling with every blow.

They wove and darted around the platform.  Dragons hovered, and humans watched from behind the fire barrier.  The purple moon rose above a jagged horizon, making everything glow.

Galdon ducked, slashing at Faelgyr's legs.  The dragon was committed to his move, and suffered a deep slash.  The clan hissed as the smell of hot blood filled the air.

Faelgyr stumbled, eyes wide with shock.  He blocked another blow, but not the follow up.  Blood blossomed again, gushing from the dragon's arm.  Someone crooned, but no one moved to attack.

The hunter lifted his sword for a brutal attack, and Faelgyr rolled forward.  He was breathing hard, straining to get to his feet.  Galdon hounded him relentlessly, hacking and kicking, determined to finish the war leader.

It was inevitable, but I stiffened nonetheless.  Rhaelgyr comforted me, but had nothing to say as Faelgyr was hunted.  Galdon bore down on the dragon, and slid his sword effortlessly into the old elf's chest.

Roars sounded, but none moved.  ~Why don't they attack?~ I asked, outraged and saddened.

~Because we have our honor and pride.~

Young Rhaelgyr stepped forward, shifting to elven form.  He looked like a youthful version of the person I knew, but I really should have known that.

"I'll face you."

It's my birthday

Not yet, anyway.  May 14th is the big day.  Not that 31 is a special year, or anything.  It's just my first birthday since my book release.

In honor of both events, I'll be giving away some cool stuff.  Like, two autographed copies of my book, and some neat (weird) blood drop bookmarks.  Maybe some other stuff if I pick it up in the next month.

Just tell me about your first vampire experience.  After my birthday, I'll randomly pick the winners.  So you have plenty of time to tell your friends, and spread the news, and everyone can tell me about their first vampire.

***

My first vampire experience is technically the Bunnicula series.  He is a vampire rabbit.  It counts.

But not really.

Truly, my first vampire experience was the movie, Bram Stoker's Dracula.  I was twelve or thirteen, with some rough shit going on in my life, and I saw it with my mom and brother.  I hadn't really been into vampires before then; I'd grown up reading sci-fi, and animal stories, and was just getting to fantasy.  I might have read Salem's Lot by that point, but I don't think so.

So here was precocious me, not yet knowing I had a dark side, watching Gary Oldman in awesome costumes being awesome.  I loved it, and felt sorry for Dracula, and didn't understand why love would kill him in the end.  I thought if she'd really loved him, she would have nursed him back to life so they could live together.  I still think that.

After that, I started getting more into vampires.  It was Interview with the Vampire and The Vampire Lestat that really brought me over.  Lestat, especially.  He was dark, and cruel, and callous, and not human.  There was something great about him in his book, something very lovable hiding beneath the stone exterior.  I felt I could understand him, and his reveling in the power he'd been granted.  I felt he just wanted to be loved, and needed someone strong enough to keep up with him.

And that's how I started my love affair with vampires.

Morgan Chronicles

He was huge.  Broad of shoulders, deep of chest, legs like pillars as he continued his challenge.  The rest of the clan began roaring back, malevolence filling the night.

~Who is he?"~  Why would anyone challenge a dragon?

~Professional dragon hunter.~  Rhaelgyr's voice was chilled.

~Really?~  I was intrigued.  Rhaelgyr no longer intimidated me.  Much.  But I knew him.  We'd become friends.  If not for that, I'm sure he'd still scare the beejeebus out of me.  ~People hunt you on purpose?~

He laughed, the mood of the memory changing slightly.  The warrior was less intimidating, even as he lifted his axe over his head.  A dragon blew fire on him, and the flames slid off his armor to puddle at his feet.  This really should have been frightening, but it wasn't.

~Not all of us could be controlled.  Some broke free.  Some clans had hidden and were never enslaved.  Warriors were needed to deal with them, and magic was developed to guard against fire and claws.~

Dragons hovered, growling and seething.  The warrior continued roaring, and two clan members answered him.  They held the note, landing on the edge of the balcony.  They looked similar, though the one on the left was much larger and bore a scar scross the snout.

~Mother and Faelgyr.  He was the war leader, but he came with the clan to defend us.~  Faelgyr lifted his scarred muzle high, combustible saliva dripping, sputtering in a golden pool.  ~Later, I figured he was too old for the real war, and was sent as an honor guard.~

His mother took a step forward, shifting to human form.  She was taller than the warrior, with braided hair down to her ankles.  Dressed chin to toe in leather, she cut an impressive figure.  A growl lingered in her voice as she addressed the killer.  "Marlyra demands you declare your intentions."

The warrior fell quiet, staring at the dragon matriarch.  "To kill everyone."  His graveyard tone elicited hisses in response.

Marlyra narrowed her eyes, fists on hips.  "You'll never get all of us."  He cocked his head in response, resting the head of his axe on the balcony.  "Honorless dogs such as yourself will never beat us."

"Honorless?"  The warrior stiffened, reaching for his helm.  "You call me honorless?"

~What am I missing?~

Rhaelgyr sighed softly.  ~The hunter was Galdonian.  They fight for honor, seeking the greatest prey.  They would never fight an unworthy opponent.  Mother is about to accuse him of cheating.~

"What else should I call someone who hides behind enchanted armor and sneaks up on helpless women?"  The gathered dragons hissed.  A few growled.

The hunter removed his helm, revealing a square head and dark skin.  Short-cropped hair and deep eyes lurked in shadows.  Mysterious and dangerous, he stared down Marlyra.

"Then I shall kill you one by one."  His helmet clanged as he dropped it.

"Remove your armor," the dragon queen countered.

"Remove yours."  The hunter reached for the buckles on the side of his breastplate.

She laughed, long and triumphant.  "That won't do anything to save you."

His breastplate fell.  "Nor will it save you."  He wore only a mesh shirt beneath, highlighting the wealth of muscles.  He adjusted his bracers, removing them as well.

Faelgyr shifted, stepping forward.  In elven shape, he was old and grizzled.  "I'll go first."

I feared for his chances.

A new guest blog

I was posting on Marsha Lockom's site today.  Huzzah for friends and networking and exposure.

I'd have posted it earlier, but I spent the weekend writing, and then was working most of the day.  This is the first ten minutes I've found to myself.  Bleaurgh.

So, I'm pleased Marsha had room for me.  It feels great.

And if anyone ever wants to say anything here, just let me know.

Doctor Who

The new season of Doctor Who started in Britain.  I guess it starts in the US in a few weeks.  But I'm watching it on the British schedule.

There's a new actor playing the Doctor.  I wasn't sure how I was going to like him, but only two episodes in I've already decided I like him.  He's bringing in just enough of David Tennant's Doctor to not be jarring, but is already making the character his.  My only quibble is that he isn't all nerdy cute with fangirl appeal.  He's actually pretty horse-faced.  8P  But he's acting is cool, so I forgive him.

The head writer also changed, and, WOW, the difference is immediately noticeable.  Like last night's episode....just fantastic.  I was tearing up waiting for him to make the choice.

And the Dalek's are back.  And the quantum assassins.  I LOVED the quantum assassins.  They were so unique, and cool, and completely awesome.

I would love to write for Doctor Who.  I know, I've published a paranormal romance, and my short stories are fantasy, but that doesn't mean I don't have a love for the sci fi/fantasy that is Doctor Who.  It's a great universe, and so much room for new things, and different characters and adventures.

And, well, Captain Jack's in there, which makes all things better.  And I'm dying for Torchwood season three.

Affirmation

There's a little something all storytellers are looking for; affirmation.  They want to know their story has reached someone, that they're not just talking in the dark.

And I've been kinda lost in the dark lately.  I know my book's out there, that people have bought it.  It's out with reviewers, but no word back yet.  It's a frustrating time this early on.

But then I get word back from someone who read it, and they loved it.  It was excellent to hear.

It was just what I needed to get through this early start.

Sketch

An old old sketch.  Morrigana likes kittens.

AW Blog Chain April

So, April's blog chain is what it would be like to meet your character.  Which is a fantastic question.  I'm really in the mood to talk about my characters.

First off, there would be meeting Keila.  She would be like a kick-ass, psychically powered version of myself, really.  Secretly shy, snarky, excitable, not aware of her own allure...yeah, all of it me.  Having a psychic blade, and stronger prescience, and an eight hundred year old vampire lover gives her an up over me.

(And that's not a spoiler.  Seriously.  He's the only other character mentioned on the blurb.  They HAVE to be a couple.)

So, there's Varick.  It would be awesome to meet him.  I did design him with all the little aesthetic button-pushes that really get to me.  Loooooooooooooong white hair.  Blue eyes.  Pale skin.  A little cold, but secretly very passionate and loving.  Straight nose, nice chin, tight tight tight lean body.  Tattoo.  Awesome classic car.

Why shouldn't he be the perfect man to meet?

Then there's his intellect.  And the fact that he's eight hundred years old.  And that he's a vampire.  And German.

Yeah, meeting him would be way better than meeting Keila.  Keila's awesome.  And would be way more awesome if she weren't just a version of me.  (Yes, tid bit Mary Sue there.  Every author does it.  Any who say not are lying!  And you can tel them I said so.)

But since Varick's got a lot of borrowed personality from my old man, I don't really need to meet him.

Though, meeting Kiyoshi from the second book would be awesome.  Delicious, shy, Japanese incubus.  Mmmmmmmmmm.  Just walk around with him on a leash.

Well, enough of my lustful(ish) ranting.  Check out Proach before me (also doing stuff with Rho's Odyssey), and AuburnAssassin is next.  Stop by everyone.  Love everyone.  Find out more about their characters.



Proach (me): http://desstories.blogspot.com/
RavenCorinnCarluk: http://ravencorinncarluk.blogspot.com/
AuburnAssassin: http://clairegillian.wordpress.com/
DavidZahir: http://zahirblue.blogspot.com/
xcomplex: http://arielemerald.blogspot.com/
Frodo: http://annvevera.blogspot.com/
FreshHell: http://freshhell.wordpress.com/
leahzero: http://words.leahraeder.com/
Aimeelaine: http://www.aimeelaine.com/writing/blog/
Anarchicq: http://www.anarchicq.com/
Breddings: http://breddings.blogspot.com/
*RomanceWriter*:http://staceyespino.blogspot.com/
Forbidden Snowflake: http://www.alleslinks.com/
razibahmed: http://www.southasiablog.com/

No Morgan today

Sorry, my friends.  No Morgan today.  I got swamped with getting promo stuff ready.  Nothing like hand painting a hundred vampire pumpkins.  I painted them all weekend, then folded them, and I spent today (at work) binding them.  Oh, and I signed them in the inside cover.

This is part of my desk at work.  I get to see outside.  And that's one of the MANY Orlando pictures on my desk.




After I got home, I got to do my first really real autograph.  Ahem.  Squeeeeeee!

Uncropped, this is me and Mackey signing the book at my desk.  It was so unreal to hold it in my hands, and see it, and be able to look at what part my friend Lisa was at and know what was coming up.  So different than reading the same book as someone else and getting a glimpse at where they are.  This was...awesome.

So, my first autograph.  Joy.

Now I must make book plates for my long distance friends.

So, forgive me.  Morgan will be back next week.  I need this week to recover and get caught up.  No permanent hiatus.

And here's some bonus pictures!

Shiao and Mackey say hi.

Yes, that's a queen Alien on my desktop. 

Author Brand

I'm taking a few online classes about promoting.  It was the aspect I never studied when learning how to write.  I was focused more on becoming a good writer than becoming a good salesman/MC.

I've said this before.

One of the things that's coming up again and again is the author brand.  Branding yourself so people know what to expect, and why you're different.

I'm not very good when it comes to answering things like that.  "Tell us about yourself.  Why should we read you?  What's unique about your stories?  Why should I pick you over everyone else?  What are your strengths and weaknesses?"

Those questions just suck.

How do I describe myself, other than saying "I'm just me."  My sister-in-law praised me as being so creative, and so cool.  Both made me blush, because I don't think of myself in those terms.  I'm just me; I prefer my Legolas lunch box to a purse.  I write my stories with my characters, without really thinking about them.

Since there's no conscious effort to be myself, there aren't any easily attainable words to describe me.

One thing I do know about my author brand; I have no desire to be like everyone else.  I very much want to run things as I would, not as an author should.  Like keeping the YouAreAnnoying.Us domain.  Yes, I write because I'm a storyteller, and want others to share my story.  But I don't cater to people, and if someone is bugged by my dark/blunt/me attitude, they're not the kind of people I want reading my work.

Elitist?  Maybe.  But me.

I also don't want to be "professional".  Gods, I hate that word.  It implies so many things to me, like stiff collars and no fun.  I'm going to play video games, and I'm going to swear, and I'm going to hate things.  I'm going to have fun, and I'm going to squee over cuteness, and I'm going to be annoying.

If I didn't do those things, I wouldn't really be myself.  Sure, there's details that don't need to be said in public.  But there's also no reason I should put up a facade just because I'm an author.

Featured on the PMA

So, yeah, more goodness from the Annual Paranormal Mixed Media Awards. 

Featured Profiles

Look at me, all featured and stuff!  Woo Hoo!

Could always use more competition and votes.  So, if you've got something paranormal, sign up.  Let me know, and I'll come vote on your page too.

Clash of the Titans

Saw Clash of the Titans tonight.  I've been looking forward to it since I first saw the trailer.  Knowing that it was being made had me feeling a little strange, but then the trailer hooked me.

It's not a super phenomenal oh muh guh kinda movie.  And a few things could have been left out.  But I still enjoyed it.  It was entertaining, and quite a lot like the first one.

Bubo even has a cameo.  Squeee!  Bubo was my favorite character from the original.  Though, I keep remembering his name as Beebo.  Maybe because Bubo is stupid.  8P

The graphics are great, the fights are cool, and it's spiffy.  It was exactly what I expected from it.  Meaning, cheesey and entertaining.

Though, I'm now coming to the conclusion that Sam Worthington can't act.  Other than the accent, I didn't see much difference between Perseus and Jake.

Though, it was so eerie to hear the kiwi accent.  I kept just thinking about Spartacus Blood and Sand, and how there must be something in the water in New Zealand.

Preview for the A Team just keeps me going.  That's gonna be great.

Morgan Chronicles

Yeah, I know, it's short.  I've been tied up at work with new responsabilities, and tied up at home putting together promo stuff for the upcoming RT conference.  Bleaurgh!

But, I still got something together, at least.

**************

The scent of blood grew strong, overwhelming.  The dragon lay still, not even in her death throes.  The humans remained silent, some checking on their fallen comrade, some spreading into the halls.

Their first victim wasn't even cold, and they were looking for more.  ~They treat you like vermin.~  Outrage colored everything.

~As we treated them~  A gout of flame filled the hall, dark orange, clinging to everything it touched.  One of the hunters screamed, caught in the full force of a dragon breath.  He fell quickly, armor not protecting him from the high heat of dragon flame.

Men fell back, trying to dodge the attack.  Some did, most didn't.  Everyone in the hall was lapped at by flames.  None of them died as quickly as the first man, and a couple tried to put out the flames.

Those in the dead dragon's lair attempted to fall back to the balcony.  Retreating and regrouping seemed like a good idea.

But other members of the khaldera had already thought of that.  Men stepped onto the balcony, and a rush of wings filled the air.  We followed outside to watch a dragon strafe the balcony, bowling humans over the edges.  A second dragon followed close by, laying a path of fire across the door.  If any more humans wanted out, they'd have to risk fiery death.

Since this memory was being shared by Rhaelgyr, certain aspects became draconic.  I didn't know how many humans there were, only that they still moved.  I tried counting them, but something wouldn't let me focus enough to do so.  ~How many attacked?~ I asked.

~I don't know.  Dragons don't think in exact numbers usually.~

Shouts grew, and a large warrior jumped through the flames and onto the balcony.  He brandished a double-headed axe, armored in thick plates.  The fire wouldn't take hold, and he stalked blodly to the center of the platform.  Looking to the sky, he roared out a challenge.

And was answered.

Sketch

Here's a sketch.  And it's not an April fools or anything.  It was simply noticed that I haven't had anything up lately.  Sad reasons for it.  Mostly because I'm delicate, and easily wounded.

o,.,o

This one was for a full illustration that I was going to title Dragonslayers.  Group of silly humans thought they could slay a dragon.

Foolish foolish mortals.