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Most of you know I suffer from a chronic illness. The last week it kicked my ass. I don't mean like slapped me around a bit. No, I'm talking a real sweep-the-leg-Johnny, crane-kick-to-the-face, wax-on-wax-off complete with bad 80s hairband playing in the background old fashioned ass beating. *Shrugs* It happens from time to time, it still sucks though. "Sweep the leg." While I was dealing with this horrific shoulder pain --that wound up causing a baseball sized lump (not exaggerating here) on the back of my neck-- my husband was rewiring part of our foyer and living room. See, while we have the ceiling open to take care of the restructuring we figured it'd be smart to get rid of the knob and tube wiring and run copper. I have to admit the knob and tube was run so beautifully. With that construction comes torn up floors in our youngest's bedroom (we wanted to save what we originally thought was an original plaster medallion on the foyer ceili...

Well, let me start by saying that though 2015 is only thirteen days old it has brought a lot of amazing changes already. Firstly, I dyed my hair turquoise and blue because, well, why the hell not? It's something I've wanted to do for awhile and I finally decided to do it. I love it, it makes me smile. I tell you, smiling is so much more important than I ever realized. It doesn't just make you feel better but it also cheers up those around you. Smile more, people, it's good for you! The second awesome thing that happened was the release party for my novella collection, The Misadventures of Bob the Zombie. I had so much fun during the festivities. I met some amazing new readers (well, new to Bob) and am so excited to continue with this series.   I have had a lot going on with my house, Havenwood Manor, we are doing some structural support for our second floor and we ripped open our living room ceiling this month to sister in some joists. We are doing all the w...

Today I am lucky enough to be joined by one of the greatest gumshoes of this century. John Smith, a man without knowledge of his past and a private dick determined to figure it out, is here and he has some stuff he wants to talk about. Without further ado I present my guest for the day. *** It’s been an eventful ride, I won’t lie. Usually when you sign up to be a private detective the last thing you expect is to be taken on as the personal on-call dick for both Heaven and Hell, but here we are. …. And where is here, exactly? Somewhere out in the etherverse. I was invited here by the lovely Jaime Johnesee to do a guest blog. I’m a newb at this, to be honest, so be patient, folks. Jaime asked me to talk about my latest case, so here goes. My name is John Smith. It used to be Virgil Calahan a long time ago, circa World War I, but I’ll be damned if I wear that moniker again. Long story. Read the books. Yes, I look great for my age, thank you. I started off taking local c...

I am a very lucky person. I know, those of you aware of the hell I have been through this year (Here's a LINK to the blog post I made about it) are probably scratching your heads about now, but the reality is --as difficult as things have been-- I have had good friends and family there to help me through the rough spots. With your support I've forged my way through the worst year of my life. You've helped me to get back up, brushed me off, given me band-aids for my various metaphoric skinned knees, and kept me going down the right path. I couldn't have gotten through this year without you folks and I honestly just want to say thank you. There have been so many amazing people in my life this year helping me and I feel so lucky for it. Because of that, I wanted to take a moment and just let you all know how grateful I am for everything. Thanks for listening to and, of course, for helping me. You all rock.

I am excited, honored, and very proud to host Part One of a short story written by the ever awesome Mark Tufo for the Winter of Zombie 2014 blog tour . Without further ado, Ladies and Gentlemen, I give to you the Czar of Zombies, Mark Tufo. Through My Baby’s Eyes Mark Tufo Part One My name is Mercury Jones. One would guess that I was a professional athlete and I had given myself a flashy nickname. That wasn’t the case. Nor was I slippery in any way. My name was given to me by my asinine father, who stayed around just long enough to saddle me with that moniker. The ink wasn’t dry on the birth certificate before he bolted for parts unknown. Now the question you may have is why. Why did he name me this? Because his friends which were marginally less stupid than him bet 27 dollars and three lines of coke that he wouldn’t take a drink from a thermometer. He did. The comedy of errors didn’t stop there, he drank, snorted, got up and meandered to his then girlfriend...

Hey folks. I hope things have been well with you. Today I had the honor of interviewing the talented Christine Verstraete. Her character Becca and my bud Bob also had a bit of an interview. I enjoyed it, Bob had a blast too. Without further ado, I turn things over to Christine. Thanks to Bob (and Jaime) for letting me and Becca come to visit your site. Please be sure to stop by my GirlZombieAuthors blog during Coffin Hop (Oct. 24-31) and enter my giveaway! Click the Coffin Hop logo on my blog for the contest and Coffin Hop details. About the book: Becca Herrera Hayes is the 16-year-old protagonist from GIRL Z: My Life as a Teenage Zombie . She finds her life changed when her cousin comes home, and via an accidental scratch, turns her into a part-zombie. Now she has to cope with a weird diet and changes no teenager wants to go through. As she struggles to cope with her new life, she’s searching for her lost mother with her other cousin/BFF Carm while hoping she’ll find ...

Those of you who know me know what a horrible, awful, shittacular year I have had. For those who don't I'm going to fill you in really quickly before I get to the meat of this post. In January I was attacked by my St Bernard who had a PTSD snap on me from some abuse he had suffered as a puppy. He was two years old when we got him and never really showed any aggression at all. (Here's a link to a blogpost I wrote about it. I recommend it for anyone with children who are getting an animal from the pound.) Because of the nature of the attack and the fact it might happen at any time without any warning signs he had to either be put down or live a hands off life --which he would have hated. This year --mind, it's only October-- has also wrought me dealings with a less than stellar publisher, a less than professional artist employed by said publisher who plastered pictures of my minor children everywhere because that's obviously what you do when someone sends ...