Ten Signs Of Meltdown

Now I know you can all identify. Things go undone. You feel overwhelmed. And you can’t seem to fix anything. Nothing goes right. I’m feeling a lot of all of that right now. The pressures of family and writing and promotions just have me twisted like a pretzel.

But that’s how life goes. We are constantly inundated with the unexpected. Constantly pummeled with this or that to the point that we don’t know which way to turn. And what happens?

We have a melt-down.

Personally, my melt-down seems to be an ongoing thing. And I’ve learned to recognize all of the signs too. I can honestly visualize myself like the witch in the Wizard Of Oz, and I’ll turn to the nearest family member and say: “I’m melting…I’m melting…” They tend to back away when I do that. LOL

I thought it would be kind of fun to work up a list for everyone so you, too, could recognize all the trigger signs of melt-down. Oh, and I’ve posted this list before on another blog but since I have some torn cartilage that is giving me fits and the Tylenol isn’t touching the pain---I thought I could post it here as well as I’m sure most of you haven’t seen this list yet. So here it is:

1.    Your house possesses a permanent scorched scent from all the food you’ve burned.

2.    The cupboards contain a lot of green beans. A lot.

3.    You look at your bubble-headed eighteen-year old and actually say: “It’s your life, honey. You have to live it as you see fit.” All of this just before she gets into a car with a guy who looks like he is a throwback from Hell.

4.    The bank teller looks at your ID and swears it isn’t you.

5.    You email your best friend with a rant about your boss just to discover you emailed your boss.

6.    You get up in the morning and pick up the hairbrush, squint, and decide that bed-head suits you.

7.    You tell the cop that the redlight was only red for a few seconds before you went through it.

8.    So what if the flashing light says you’re low on gas? You’ve got enough fumes to make it home.

9.    When someone asks you what time it is, you ask them why they want to know.

10.  You think the mailman is coming on to you. After all, he’s at your door almost every day.

So if you recognize any of these symptoms, you’re having a melt-down. What do I recommend you do about it? Just go with the flow. Sometimes it can be kind of fun to see people look at you like you’re crazy. LOL And I’d love it if all of you would share your own personal melt-down symptoms.

Now for today’s book trailer showcase: Created by Tina with Topaz Promos http://topazpromos.com the video was made for Stormy Glenn’s Love Sexy from Siren Publishing.

http://tessmackall.com

Horny, Hard, and Hare-y is out!

I'm happy to announce that Horny, Hard, and Hare-y is available from Resplendence Publishing as of yesterday!

Blurb:

It's time for the annual race, and tortoise shifter, Duncan, is finally going to catch some tail—hare shifter tail, otherwise known as Charlie. With Gibbs, their owl shifter friend, keeping an eye out overhead, they're off and running. But Charlie is as spontaneously careless as the fairytale hare and finds himself caught by local DNR officer, Ben.

The full moon is rising, and if Charlie stays collared through the Hare Moon, he'll remain an animal forever. It's up to Duncan and Gibbs to free him before time is up. But in telling their secret, will they lose Ben forever? It's a foursome waiting to happen, where Ben reconnects with a mysterious lover, and the tortoise finally catches his hare.

Excerpt:

Charlie Cuelho glanced over his furry brown shoulder. His ears twitched, ruffling a little in the breeze as his constantly moving nose tried to find Duncan’s scent on the wind. Charlie had time, lots of time, so he stopped to run a soft paw behind his long ear and down his nose. He practically shivered at how awesome that felt, so he repeated the motion.

“You’re going to lose again.” A great horned owl settled onto a nearby branch.

“I’m fine, Gibbs. He’s nowhere in sight,” Charlie disregarded. Besides, having the tortoise in his sites as he won the race was exactly what he wanted. He just didn’t want to push it too close. The fact that he’d be able to laud the achievement over Duncan again and again, didn’t hurt either. There was nothing sexier than a pissed off tortoise shifter, who owed you a debt.

Since Charlie had yet to decide what that debt would be, it would only make the moment sweeter. Definitely something Duncan didn’t want to do, like kiss him whenever Charlie snapped his fingers. For an entire month. Yeah, that would be awesome.

“That’s what you said last time, and he won. You two are a cliché,” Gibson complained, tearing Charlie away from his thoughts.

“Fuck you,” Charlie barked.

He stood up on his hind legs, trying to make his exclamation sound more impressive. Which was difficult, considering he was a hare and too damn fluffy to be imposing.

“You mean, fuck like a bunny?” Gibbs made a sound like a sniff. Which wasn’t possible, technically, since he didn’t have a nose—in owl form. “I shouldn’t be warning you, but there’s a trap ahead.”

“I’ll jump it.” A movement caught Charlie’s eye, and the tell-tale scent of tortoise reached his sensitive, ever moving nose. “You know, most owls sleep in the daytime. You don’t make a very convincing shape shifter if you can’t keep the same habits.” He’d waited long enough. Duncan’s head poked from behind a bush, stretching for a better look. “Gotta go!” Charlie told the owl.

“Wait!” Gibbs called.

Charlie didn’t wait, he wouldn’t. It was just a ploy to get him to slow down enough so that the tortoise would win the race, a-damn-gain. Every year it was the same thing, laundry chores and dishes for six weeks. If Duncan had ever made him pay up creatively, Charlie might have lost on purpose. Stinky laundry and dishes weren’t creative.

Bathing Duncan for six weeks—with my tongue—now that would be hot.

Charlie raced forward, leaping over leaves and branches. His hips twisted in mid-air, knocking his long back paws together like he was clicking his heels, before they came down, dug in and pushed him off even faster.

No way was Duncan going to win another race. Not this time. No fucking way. He glanced back as he made another leap. Exultant that he didn’t see Duncan anywhere near him, he bounded happily onward. Twigs popped under his feet. Leaves rattled this way and that, with each successive jump forward. He had this race in the ba—.

His back left paw extended. Momentum carried him to a lurching stop and Charlie scrambled uncomprehendingly, when his left paw remained immobile, no matter how he shook it.

Overhead, Gibbs circled, screeching alarm. He’d be saying “I told you so”, unless the hunter was nearby to hear him.

Charlie’s heart hammered in rapid staccato beats. His keen eyes caught the flicker of movement even before he heard the crunch of boots. Charlie froze instinctively. He huddled making himself as small as possible, even though he knew it was already too late. He’d been seen, and trapped, just like Gibbs had warned.

Fuck!

“It’s okay, little guy. No one’s gonna hurt you,” the gentle voice of a man reached him. It sounded hypnotic and soothing. A voice like that could make a guy forget that he’d just been snared, and might end up as somebody’s stew meat.

Wouldn’t this dude be surprised when he tried to skin him and found a naked man instead? Charlie almost smirked. Except he couldn’t, because he was busy freaking out at the moment.

This is the second book I did for a five person, year long anthology. My first book, Unchaste, released in March. I loved this project! We had a very few rules: Word count, menage, shape shifters coinciding with the moon on the month of our release, and a happily ever after for everyone. Some of us wrote m/m, but there are several m/f books too. Check us out at ResplendencePublishing.com

Guest Blogger Kaily Hart..You Read WHAT???

You Read WHAT!?
You wouldn’t believe some of things I’ve heard people say or those that have been said to me about women who read romance. Or perhaps you can J. Can you imagine what’s said about the women that actually WRITE it? With all the talk this week about Judy Mays and her situation this seemed like such a worthy topic to bring up. The disparaging way the romance genre is viewed overall still confuses and frustrates me and not much really ticks me. Actually, I don’t often get ticked off at all, but this really does it for me. Yes, it’s probably primarily from men, but I’ve heard a lot of very disparaging remarks from women as well, women who “wouldn’t lower themselves to read such trash”. LOL. Sure, not everything is for everyone. But when it comes to romance, it’s not just that some people choose not to read it, it’s almost like they have to belittle those that do as well. It doesn’t seem to be the case with other genres of popular fiction. In fact, quite the opposite, so what gives??



Here are some things I’ve come across and my thoughts on it:



Women who read romance are fat, ugly, unmarried women who can’t get a guy – Wow, generalize much? I know for a fact this is not true!



Women who read romance just need a good lay by a real guy - Ah, great defensive comeback, usually masking your own deficiency and every woman everywhere could do with a good lay now and again J, romance reader or not.



Romance is not serious fiction – Oh, and science fiction and urban fantasy are? And by the way, many, many books from other genres have an element of romance in them. Almost every blockbuster movie does as well. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but what genre outsells more than any other? Huh?



Erotic romance is basically porn – Oh, honey what kind of porn have you been watching LOL?



Romance is so predictable – I love this one. You mean when you read a mystery you don’t know by the end it’ll be solved and you’ll know who did it? That sounds pretty predictable, but that’s just me.



Romance encourages women to expect something that’s not real. It sets unrealistic expectations about love and marriage – OK, this is probably said by guys who don’t…er…shall we say, measure up? Why shouldn’t women or anyone for that matter, have high expectations when it comes to the person they’ll spend the rest of their life with?



Anyone can write a romance novel - Oh, really? I get this ALL the time. People think writing romance is so much easier than writing any other type of book. Couple meet and fall in love. They boink and declare their undying devotion to each other. The people don’t think they really have to come up with any ideas, that they just have to write it. Alrighty then. Have at it!



That’s not all of them. Not by a long shot, but it gives a flavor. Romance isn’t just the 50 pound gorilla in the publishing room. It’s more like the 1000 pound monolith that aint going anywhere anytime soon.



So…have you come across some of these asinine comments and thinking? Why do YOU read romance?





About Me:



Kaily Hart, a seemingly straight-laced mother of four left corporate America and a high-powered, lucrative career to be a stay at home mom. Ha! That lasted about four weeks, during which time she realized she had a deeply repressed dream —to write. And romance at that! By day, Kaily plays conservative wife and soccer mom, but at night crafts hot and steamy tales of romance and love with gorgeous heroes who wouldn’t dream of leaving the toilet set up. Ever. She’s smart and sassy, at least in her own mind, and is trying her best to bring the alpha male solidly back to contemporary romance, one hot story at a time. Two years ago she never would have thought she’d be doing this, but now that she is? Well, you couldn’t pay her enough to do anything else.



Kaily’s books, PICTURE THIS, PAY UP & PLAY ME are all currently available from Ellora’s Cave and other ebook outlets.



If anyone would want to contact me (which I would love by the way) or just keep up with what I’m doing, you can find me all over:

Web – http://www.kailyhart.com/

Blog - http://kailyhart.blogspot.com/

Facebook – http://www.facebook.com/kaily.hart

Twitter - http://twitter.com/kailyhart

Commitment FAIL

Do you have an unwavering perception of yourself? You know, like, "Dude, I'm totally awesome at multitasking"?

I separated from my ex almost two years ago. The divorce was final last October. When I left him, I had already lost count of the number of times I'd asked, "What did I do wrong?"

Before we go any further, thank you, yes, I know that you're thinking, "It wasn't all your fault." That's exactly why I asked the question. I'd like to think I'm perfection walking, but we all know it takes two to make things work, and it takes two to make them fail. So I asked the douche bag ex what it was that I could have done differently. You see, I was trying to make a learning experience from it. Do you know what he said?

"Nothing. You never did anything that bothered me."

Of course I didn't believe him. Who would? I mean he lied about everything, why not this, so that I could permanently wallow in guilt because I couldn't see a way to make it work.

As much as I wanted to believe in my own perfection (please say this with tongue and cheek. I really don't have a huge ego. I just play one on TV), I couldn't. I asked my friends. And lemme stop right here and say, If you ever want to know the truth about your character, ask a friend.

zOMG.

My self-perception was: strong, independent, a little insecure, brave, proud, maybe a little introspective, even-tempered, and stubborn.

Theirs? Well, let's just say there was a twist on most of those. While most of my friends think I'm funny, they also say I often cross the line into inappropriate. I believe the phrase is, "wildly inappropriate."

While I'm stubborn, proud, and diplomatic, that can be construed as bitchy and greedy when it comes to business. Although it was pointed out to me that I haven't always been diplomatic, to which I pointed out, that was only after several attempts of diplomacy which was met with nastiness. Then I let it fly. Also, it appears I must be careful of email correspondence. I'm one to zip off an email and hit send, then do the, "doh!" dance. Yep. Clever, I know. It does bite me in the butt.

But why do I bring all this up? Because in the journey to rediscovering who I am and even whether or not I like the person I've become, I've learned some things on my own.

I have commitment FAIL. Not in relationships. No, unfortunately I stick with those beyond their death, believing they can be revived (which, incidentally, I don't see as a flaw). What I mean is, with projects in the real world.

I over commit to book contracts. Oh, I get them all done, but I'm stressing like crazy on the other end of the laptop. I over commit with friends too. My first instinct is to say, "yes", to just about anything. You want me to come watch you bowl, let you drink, drive you home when I have three books due and can't sit in front of my computer to work for the next five hours? YES!! You want me to attend a sex toy party even though I can't buy anything at the moment and I really need to be at home watching the nieces? YES!! You want to borrow my car and I momentarily lapsed about what I need it for? YES!! You want me to drive three hours one direction to bring you something, without gas reimbursement and then drive home again the same day? Oh, wait, I DID say no to that. Yay me!

It was only as I came into this week, that I really allowed myself to think about it. I need to say no more often. No doesn't mean I don't want to help my friends, or that I care any less for them. What it means is that I'm respecting my time more. I'm respecting your time more.

I've gotten to the point several times now, where I'll whip out that "YES!!", then when the day comes to collect on it, I flail for a way to back out when it heavily conflicts with other priorities. A good friend doesn't back out after she's said yes. A person struggling to make it on her own, doesn't cripple herself by doing things that keep her from working when she's already maxed out.

As writers we talk a lot about giving our careers legitimacy. We want other people to recognize our office hours and not take advantage of that precious time to create and sell. We can't do that until we take our hours seriously. We can't treat our friends like the precious ones they are, if they feel abused by our lack of reliability. Here's what it comes down to: Take yourself seriously, with the respect you deserve.

Would you volunteer someone else's time beyond their ability to cope? Would you want your friend to tell you she's coming to something, then back out? I'm guessing not. Don't set yourself up for failure.

We all have our quirks to work on. We are also really harsh talkers to ourselves. Stop it. You can only do so much. Handle what you can. Start with your schedule and learn to say no. It's not mean. It's respectful. Once you get a grip on those things, then look to those other characteristics you want to hone. What you'll find is that respect comes first.

If you're respectful of your time, you won't over commit. If you're respectful of your friend's time, you won't let them down. If you respect other people, you won't hit "send" before you think about your emails. If you respect the creative process, you won't whittle your time to nothing with the family, because they recharge you. Because you need them and respect them, too. If you respect the process, your writing improves.

It all starts with you. Do you respect who you are? Do you really? Or do you take yourself for granted?

Love,
~Mia