Fall is possibly my favorite time of year, despite the fact that I hate being cold and spend the majority of my time shuffling around wearing layers of hoodies and long sleeved shirts. I just…ugh, I hate the cold. I need to be sitting in a patch of sunshine somewhere.
The only thing I hate about fall is that fact that I now go to work in the 
dark and finish working at the next period of dark. I’ve been working a lot of overtime, too, so it makes it exceptionally dark now. And, having worked in front of the computer all day, I pretty much just want to lay on the couch and do nothing. Not even think. In fact, this picture of my cat, Sam, is basically an accurate representation of me. This is why I get no writing done during the week. I’m cold. I’m lazy. I’m laying in a heap sleeping with my mouth open, snoring, and no one is going to bother me because I bite (or, as Idris said on Doctor Who: “I like biting. It’s like kissing, only there’s a winner!”)
I have, however, made time on weekends and in that ultra-slim time frame between my kids falling asleep/me falling asleep to work on a) my awesome co-writing project and, b) occasionally smutty fan fiction (still not telling where it’s located, but it is, in fact, online. Somewhere). And we are kicking butt with this paranormal. Let me tell you.
I’ve reached this really weird, crossroads with my writing. On one side, you have my historicals: dark. Historically correct. Lots of brooding men in uniform running around and women in corsets and hoopskirts and artillery and Edwardians and Victorians and fabulous terms like, “butter upon bacon.”
And then on the other side, you have paranormal. Ghosts. Still people running around in corsets. Brooding men sometimes in uniform, sometimes just in tattoos and a smile. Weird, unexplainable things and dark, unhappy settings with lots of dust, lots of sass, and lots of hot girls with tattoos and who cuss like well educated sailors.
In an unsettling statistic, completely made up at random, all but like, two percent of my current projects are paranormal. What’s up, lone historicals there on the far right side of my desktop? I salute you.
I’ve become this sassy little paranormal princess, with crazy hair, fewer tattoos than I want, and the tendency to drop the F bomb like commas whenever I really get going. And lets be honest, I really love the F bomb and I really love commas.
I recently went from purple hair, to red hair, and now to blue hair. Why?
Because. That’s why. My only regret with this recent hair color is that it looks waaaay more black than blue. Fail. But that’s my own fault because I’m too lazy to bleach my hair before I dye it something crazy. Because, lets be honest. Can we all collectively imagine the possibilities for disaster if I start bleaching my hair? No. Let’s not.
Anyway, so check out that salon worthy ‘do. Cut, color, and style by me. Because I’m cheap. I kind of dig my hair really dark because it offsets nicely from my ultra pale, pasty complexion. Hot!
But, don’t panic because I have no intention whatsoever of giving up on historical. I think I’m just going to be really, really busy with all my writing. More projects hopefully, maybe someday, will equate more readers! Yeah!
Speaking of readers, head on over to Amazon and check out the awesome comments for With Me Now. How cool is that??
You know, my thirties are turning into this cautiously rebellious period of my life. Tepid Twenties, Dirty Thirties. My hair is crazy, my tattoo obsession is in full force, and I’m a paranormal princess. You can read my dark historicals full of accuracy and gorgeous clothes or you can read my dark paranormal where no one plays by the rules.
Come play with us. It’s like The Shining: the musical. Except with less (well, somewhat less) insanity, more One Direction, and lots of spontaneous dancing. And the “Here’s Johnny!” scene set to the music of Bedroom Intruder. (“Hide yo kids, hide you wife. We gonna find you!”)
Seriously guys, the dye has gone straight to my brain. But come play anyway. Obviously, we have drinks.