This one is actually about writing.  Sorry.

So, it’s real, it’s in print, it is a physical thing not just a nearly random collection of pixels.  I considered going through it one more time looking for typos, but the last ten or more novels I’ve read, including novels by my favorite bestselling authors, all had typos, so I felt it was an impossible task. I will always hold to my conviction that the things breed when you’re not looking. And I’m in good company. I’d name the authors, but it would take to long and they might sue me, so I’m not going to.

It’s published! I can hold it! A couple people are even reading it! I am very excited.  Wish the price could be a little more competitive–and by competitive I mean way cheaper than other books–but I guess comparable to similarly sized softcovers at the bookstore isn’t bad.  $12.50 was the minimum I could price it and not actually have to pay the publishing house if someone bought it.  Other books I’ve run across at Barnes and Noble of the oversized paperback variety seem to run anywhere from $10.00 to $13.00, depending on the number of pages, so at 320 pages I’m not as far out there as I feared. 

And it’s still out there in pixel form for $3.99.

Anyway, I’m done talking about the green stuff.  Funny how it often isn’t green any more but is usually the same kind of nearly random collection of pixels.  Kind of unsettling when you really stop to think about it.  So I won’t.

By the way, if I ramble it’s because I’m writing this sitting terrified at my basement desk just waiting for the mice to attack.  I am really beginning to not like them.  They got into the Christmas decorations.  Wrong.  So, so wrong. 

So.  As I was saying before my brain derailed.

The long road has come to an end.  Or at least a four-way stop for a pause while I finish typing the sequel, The Hunt.  I do love stories about the Wild Hunt, but they are too few so I wrote one of my own. 

But I can only type it between figuring out how to market my books.  I just don’t know if I have the stuff.  I really would make a terrible used car salesman.  I see book promos by other authors that go something like this:

Read this!  Exciting adventure!  Beautiful romance!  It’s the best thing you’ll ever read!

And I just can’t.  I’ve been told it’s a good story by those who have read it, I would read it if it was something I ran across in a book store, I’ve even gotten some enthusiastic reviews, but self promotion is just so . . . not me. 

Maybe that’s why I despise mice so much, they remind me too much of me.

Nah, it’s the running across my pillow in the middle of the night while I’m sleeping on it.  Not to mention trying to take a shower with one staring at me from across the room.

Okay, enough tension.  I can feel beady little eyes on me from every corner.  I know they’re just waiting.  Dang you to heck, people who sold the neighbors mouse-infested hay. 

In parting, here are a few links. 

Magic’s Guardian Print

Magic’s Guardian ebook


Barnes and Noble:

Author website:

Facebook page:

Kingston (free short story)

Smashwords (you must go here for the Kindle version):

Barnes and Noble:

Sony Reader:



Any ads listed in the post not related to Magic’s Guardian or Kingston are not mine. Just so’s ya know.

Love and luck to my fellow indie writers, and good reading to all.

Below images courtesy of:

eyes from © Joseasreyes Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Images
trees from© Magicinfoto | Stock Free Images & Dreamstime Stock Photos
peacock Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Images © Nfdx




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