Rumors of my death…

Fair warning…this is written under the influence of exasperation, frustration, and a fairly decent domestic Cab Sauv, though I plan to work toward a really nice Red Mascato as the evening progresses.

Life has been crazy over the last few years. Somewhere along the way since I last talked to you, one of my twins was diagnosed as Autistic, years of homeschooling was transitioned into public school in another state, and I (in a moment of insanity) began a Master’s degree in Rhetoric and Composition at East Carolina University. The end result of all of this was a state in which writing my next series of books became an effort in futility. Rejection after rejection….and now I find myself in a transitional space where I am evaluating everything that I value in my life.

My husband recently acquired his DNP (Doctorate of Nursing Practice). His meteoric rise in academic respect while I managed our children and household has been a cause of envy for me. Combined with my rejections and the stagnation of my writing career as my priorities wavered between writing and the obligations to my son. I want to have value. I want to feel as if I have merit, especially since I’ve sidelined my personal ambitions and joy for someone else.

One of the authors I respect and value most in the world told me that I wouldn’t be happy until I let the cat out of the bag during a writing retreat last year. I began to work on the next Destiny book at that point. I had hoped to put forward other books in the St. George world, but that was not to be. Defying Destiny took root and I’ve been actively working on finishing that book in the series. The nine other books in that world may be available at some point, but (as of right now) they are on the back burner until I establish my St. George universe again.

For all of you who have followed me, thank you. For all of you who are just discovering me, thank you, too. I’m not perfect. I’m not one of these positive women who put out book after book and have these lives of glorious productivity. Life gets in the way for me. Parenting an Autistic child creates boundaries I would never have predicted or respected a decade ago. Maybe, as I wrap up this degree, my relaunch of the St. George world, and reclaim my identity as a person instead of someone’s wife and mother, I can also embrace my calling as an author.

For those of you who have waited patiently for my next book, I say thank you. You have my heart and I hope, desperately, that I won’t let you down again.

Respectfully,

Kaye Chambers

BLOOD AND DESTINY and Yes, there’s a Contest!

BLOOD AND DESTINY
Click for Buy Link!

The Day is HERE!

That’s right, folks.  BLOOD AND DESTINY has officially launched onto the world.  This book is near and dear to my heart.  I’m very excited to say thank you to Anne Scott for helping me make it the best story it could be.

And Yes, to celebrate, I’m having a contest!

The Grand Prize:  A Sony Pocket Reader

There will be several, smaller prizes, given out as well ranging from an Amazon $25 giftcard to a $50 Prepaid Visa giftcard.

Details can be found on my website.

Additional prizes will be given out on my yahoo group:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/paranormalsociety/

Here’s a little bit more information about Destiny:

When the past bites, bite back.

Ladies of St. George, Book 1

For Destiny St. George, shapeshifting lioness and private investigator, her best friend’s looming wedding is little more than a reminder of her failed relationship with vampire king Marcus Smythe. Tired of being only one of many mistresses—and dinner entrees—she’s stayed away from the vampire scene altogether. Until a missing-person case forces her to seek his help.

Knowing that pressing Destiny is not the way to convince her to give their relationship another try, Marcus has been waiting her out—and his patience is rewarded when she steps into his nightclub. Now is his chance to lure her back into his arms. This time, he plans to keep her there.

Destiny’s not sure which is worse: working with Marcus, or trying to remember all the reasons she called it off with him. And when it becomes clear the case is an elaborate trap to avenge a millennia-old grudge, she finds herself caught between love and instinct—while the clock ticks down on an innocent victim’s life…

Product Warnings:  Vampires determined to take more than a bite out of the heroine. A lioness sure that she’s going to have the last word.

I love my dog…

Dogs are man’s best friend.  In this case, the “man” is species oriented and not gender.  I have aLacy dog who is totally devoted to me.  A Boxer.  She’s currently snoring at my feet.  So, how do you know if your dog is just the run of the mill family dog or “your” dog?

She wakes your husband when she needs to take a midnight potty break because she knows you need your sleep.

She’s not content to be anywhere but tripping distance from you.  Thankfully, Boxer’s are a tall and leggy breed else we’d both be sore from falling.

Your laundry will never be the same.  Socks bearing teethy holes become common place.  If it carries your scent, it’s fair game.

From talking to other Boxer families, this tends to be a feature of the breed.  They’re wonderful family dogs, but often bond with a particular household member.  We purchased Lacy as an adult and were afraid of bonding issues.  She and I took one look at each other and it was love.  She’s great with the kids, shares her water bowl with the cat though cats were beyond her experience when she came, and views our home as her castle.

Who could ask more than that?

A new phrase…

Angelic AvengerThis past week has been a wonderful week.  My Maggie Award novel, ANGELIC AVENGER, had its digital debut on Tuesday.  I was absolutely thrilled to say I downloaded it as soon as it became available…and yes, I paid for the priviledge.  Why?  Because it made it real to me.  🙂

My husband, as the dedication indicates, is greatly supportive of my writing efforts.  In fact, one of the most memorable episodes involving Bella’s launch on the world comes from him.

He works at a hospital.  One of his coworkers came up to him and asked about my book.  The digital release in advance of the paperback had some of his coworkers wanting to know when they could go to the bookstore to buy it.

Well, the coworker asked what genre it was.  When my husband, slightly embarrassed, told him it was a paranormal romance, the instant reply was:

“Oh.  It’s one of those vibrator books.”

Having met the gentleman in question, I can hear the humor in which it was meant.  And the more I think about it, the funnier it is.

Vibrator books.  My new turn of phrase for the week.

Well, experts say that a good bit of a woman’s interest in sex comes from fantasy and intellectual stimulation.  Isn’t that the purpose of romance novels?  A little escapism and fantasy?

Men can learn from that.  *grins* And if they took advantage of it, they wouldn’t be called vibrator books at all.

My poor husband may be getting flack at work, but he’s taking it with pride and amusement.  Funny, I don’t think he’s complaining, either.  *wink*

Kindergarten is a Musical

Have you ever stopped to appreciate the little ones bouncing under your feet, especially this time of year?

Holiday decorations are up. The smells of baking and pine trees are heavy in the air. Excitement is building with every bow placed on the presents under the tree. Who’s feeling it the most?

The tiny Whos in Whoville.

One visit to the local elementary will give you the proof of it.

I volunteer twice a week and share my love of books with the Kindergarten classes. It reminds me why I write. These bright faces will someday be our target audience. Teaching them to love the written word at this age can make them readers for life.

Okay, I admit it. I do it because I love to watch them react to the funny voices as I share my favorite stories – some old, some new, but all wonderful.

Anyway, there’s been a curious phenomenon this year. For absolutely no reason with no prompting, the students have been known to burst into song. Funny versions of Jingle Bells and Frosty to crazy songs I don’t even recognize.

In the middle of lunch? Fine, no problem. They can even throw in a little dance as they line up to go back to the classroom.

In the middle of craft time? Glue goes on better with a song.

In the middle of math? Well…songs have a repeating pattern, don’t ya know?

In short…Kindergarten is like living in a Disney movie. Spontaneous bursts of song are the sign of happy children before adults pound the glow out of them. This year, it’s really hit me the most because I’ve been a Christmas grump.

In the past, the first day of December marked the happiest time of the year. Somehow, along the way, I’ve lost that joy. Granted, seeing my children happy has been rewarding; however, I just don’t get that sense of excitement over every little thing like I used to.

It makes me sad and has me even more determined to make up for lost time. So, I’ve pulled out my Disney Santa hat and began to practice my own version of Christmas carols… *wink*

Happy Holidays!

Have you ever noticed…?

That men and children aren’t so very different?  *grins*

I love my husband.  Having said that, as I write this, he’s screaming in front of the television hogging a game he bought for the children on the Wii.  It’s a hard call to see who’s screaming and laughing loudest – them or him.

Tonight was supposed to have been date night for us, but I’ve been thrown over for the three foot and under crowd.  *grins*  All in all, I suppose it’s okay.  It’s really hard to hold it against a man who spends all his time either earning a living to pay the bills or playing rambunctiously with his children.  Work hard, live well, and play enthusiastically…

Now that is my kind of hero.

I was asked in my Raven interview the other day if I ever attached to my hero.  My answer was really simple:  No.  None of them are based on my husband, so it’s easy to let them go when the story’s over.  Maybe I should fix that and create one based on him…

What about you?  Do you live with your hero?  Better question:  What qualities do you have for your perfect man?

*SIGH* To the Bat Cave, Batman!

Don’t you wish it were that simple?  Do YOU have a Bat Cave?  Do you want one?  *raises hand* I do.

You guessed it, Summer is here.  Like a lot of work-from-home parents, my children have now turned into the holy terrors my mother warned me about.  Yes, I can hear that laughter, by the way.  While I love them and want them to mature to be well-rounded, well-adjusted adults, I’m trying very hard not to become the great harpy and eat them.

The Wii has broken after 4 short weeks in residence.  Hard rubber balls have been thrown against my smoked GLASS front door because it makes them bounce better on the hardwood coming back to them.  One curtain rod has been bent beyond repair.  WebKinz really DO fly when struck by the ceiling fan…and small children really can throw high enough to reach it in my vaulted great-room when they’re determined enough.

Oh, and let’s not forget that the cat has decided the frogs are a new novelty.  One has just begun to sing at night and suddenly, she’s remembering that cats in the wild enjoy an occasional frog leg…or body…provided she can get him out of the great aquarium I’ve put him in.  Bear in mind, one of my aquatic frogs had his name changed from Tad to Lucky for miraculously avoiding certain death by FLUKE when she managed to push over one of the smaller aquariums several months ago.

SIDE BAR:  Said cat pushed small portable aquatic habitat over so that it splashed enough water, sand, and one small frog into a tea cup that had been left beside said tank.  In the process of pushing over the tank, she had pushed the cup off the counter where it had fallen into a tall shipping box left to be broken down for the recycle bin from earlier in the day.  Said container was about 10 inches tall and about 6 inches square.  Cup knocked container over to an angle – just right for the flying frog, water, and sand to catch it when the habitat hit the ground and broke open.

Wait – where was I?  Oh yeah, the Bat Cave!

Instead of a secret lair, I get coffee and readjusted working hours.  The cat is curled up at my feet, the frogs are beginning to sing in their tanks, and my children are blessedly quiet.  And Tigers have never looked so good.

The price for a double life?  No sleep…but Batman never complained!

And in case you were wondering, the answer is yes.  Well, to the question of progress on Tigers 2, that is.  It lacks a name because I’m still toning and working the kinks out.

Hum…what do YOU think we should call it?