Cranky Monday

Guest Dog barked at the damn mail person. Until then, I was sleeping really well for once. I am not feeling very friendly toward guest dog at the moment. I'll get over it, 'cause she's a dog, but until then, she needs to stay the frak away from me. I didn't even let her lick the yogurt from my empty breakfast bowl.

Chase wrote off my overdraft balance, 100% of which was their stupid fees - monthly service fees for not using my account (because I had $2.48 in it), an extended overdraft fee, and the one that started it all, the charge they put through when there wasn't money to cover it in the first place. On something I had cancelled, for frak's sake. I guess I'm supposed to feel thankful that they never charged me the $35 overdraft fee? Yeah, okay. Thanks for that tiny kindness, Chase. Gramma doesn't like you today. Gramma preemptively doesn't like you tomorrow, either.

Blue Bell is rolling out distribution, FINALLY. Only the part of the country they started with wasn't even Texas, and the part of Texas they started with is awfully frakkin' close to Louisiana. So Houston might get some Blue Bell, but not San Antonio or Austin or Waco or Dallas or Fort Worth. Blue Bell, I love you, but you damn well better be worth MONTHS of waiting. I support you taking apart your factories from the ground up - it was a good move - but damn, man. I haven't had any Blue Bell since like, I don't know? December?

And in the final insult, Applebee's, which has $7 burgers on Monday nights, sent out an email saying some of those $7 burgers even come with refillable fries! When I can't get out of the house and get a burger tonight, that's just mean. Cruel and inhumane, even.

On a not-cranky note...........okay, I don't have one.

I'm alive? That's a win, I guess.

Oh, hey. I have clean underwear because I washed my underwear last night. Win!

How far in advance do you add things to your calendar?

My birthday next year. I'm celebrating, even if I'm alone. Come celebrate with me if you want.

Easy, no. Necessary, yes.

Once again, theferrett puts my thoughts into words, so much more articulately than I usually can.

I am not normal (frankly, I don't think anybody is, but that's just my personal opinion). I am okay with my abnormality. Some days I hate my brain because some days it feels like it hates me. But I also love my brain, because I see/perceive things in ways other people don't or can't.

Sometimes, I wish depression were a monster I could just slay and be done with it. Unfortunately, it is more like a Goa'uld, which has wound its way around my spine and brain stem, and which can never be separated from me without killing me.

But because it is so intrinsically a part of me, I learn things from it, I arrive at insights I wouldn't normally get within ten miles of. Thus is the curse also a gift, and if the world is a balancing act, then I have it so someone else doesn't have to.

Basically, instead of killing my demon, or railing against it, I've learned (am still learning) to live with it. Key word being live.

Love Letter

Even though I consider myself a skilled word-user, I'm not entirely certain I can express just how much you mean to me. Hopefully, I can get some of it across without sounding like some crazed lunatic who believes we are destined to be together or some ridiculous crap. Ugh. It'll probably ramble a bit more than I'd like, but hopefully it'll make sense in the end.

There's a lot of backstory, which may or may not be interesting to you, but perhaps will help set the stage for why exactly you had such an impact on my life.

When you came into my life, in September of 2012, I was forty-seven. Alone. Sad. Searching for meaning.

I'd been a single mom for about fifteen years, and I'd taken my job seriously. I did everything I could conceive of to make my daughter's life a good one. I wanted her to grow up healthy and happy, someone I could be proud of, someone who could be proud of me, someone who would consider me a friend when the time came.

Though I didn't date, or have any other kind of "dating" relationships (read sexual, lol) during that time, it was more because I wanted to model healthy relationships for my daughter than for any other reason. I didn't go out of my way to find a romantic relationship - I considered finding a new partner pretty low on the priority list - and she had a life full of people who loved me and who loved her. Those were good relationships, ones I wanted her to learn from, to emulate.

My daughter and I had our hardships - money was always tight, I was lonely, I struggled constantly with depression, she was stubborn as hell, something she clearly got from my side of the family. We lost loved ones - a beloved dog, a special cat, a favorite cousin, my mother, and my daughter's best friend. That one was especially tough. Twelve year old girls shouldn't die.

I raised my daughter to think, to stand up for herself, to stand up for other people, to be independent. I also sometimes made things too easy. I went too far the wrong way to ensure she didn't have to suffer the same childhood issues I'd had, and she grew up more than a wee bit spoiled.

I was raised an Air Force brat, and I periodically get itchy feet, figuratively speaking. My solution when she was in school was to move from one apartment to another, always staying in the same school zone. I wanted her to have friends from kindergarten all the way through high school, something I'd never had. It didn't work quite the way I wanted, but it worked.

When she was still a teenager, we moved one more time. She'd just finished her freshman year of high school, gotten involved in dance, which she LOVED, had a gay boyfriend who was a marvelous dance partner and friend, and though she'd never loved school, that year was as close as she came to it. She didn't want to move. I didn't, either, this time, but there were mitigating circumstances.

Though we moved into a situation which was much better for us, that next year was the most difficult she and I had ever had - emotionally, behaviorally, financially - and I thought we weren't going to survive it intact, still loving each other. It was the first time I seriously considered giving up, believed I was a bad mom.

Though she hated the new school, and frankly, I did too, she slowly over the course of that year made friends. She got involved in drama, something she'd enjoyed in middle school, and while she was never truly happy that year, she got better. I got her into counseling again, an on and off thing since she was about four, and we worked at being honest with each other, communicating openly, being loving.

During her junior year, she met a boy. Actually, she'd met him during the prior year, but she'd had a mad crush on someone else, and this guy had only been a friend. That changed. He was charming and goofy and smart, loved my daughter, and was respectful to me, didn't ridicule my brand of weird. His life wasn't perfect, either, but he had a good family, a support system of friends, both peers and mentors, and he and my daughter became serious.

My daughter finally used her "sneak-out" rule - she could ask if she could go out after dark, and I could say no. If she felt like it was important enough to override me, she could, but only if she came and told me she was sneaking out of the house, so I could keep my phone on and come get her if I needed to, no questions asked. She didn't use it often, but she did use it.

She also had sex for the first time. I'd always told her that when it was right for her, she would know better than I would, and I only asked that she use condoms, and tell me when it happened, so that we could talk about it afterward if she wanted. She did wake me up one night, and I asked her if it had been enjoyable, and she said yes, and I said good and asked her if she wanted to talk about it and she said no, and I went back to sleep.

I don't know what kind of parent that makes me sound like, but our system worked for us. She knew there was absolutely NOTHING on Earth she couldn't talk to me about. Nothing was going to turn into judgement or a big screaming match.

Anyway, she and this young man continued to get more serious. He spent a lot of time at our house, and she spent a lot of time with his family, and they got pregnant. On purpose. And I have to tell you, I was livid. Not because she was too young to have a baby, which was true, but because she'd done this when I was already stretching our food stamps to feed one adult and two teenagers, because yes, I was feeding him too. I expressed my anger, and got it all out of the way, then I decided if I was going to be a gramma, I was going to buckle down and be happy about it. Carpe diem, because grandbabies!

My grandson is a wonderful boy - charming and supersmart and caring and strong and a handful and a half. I wouldn't trade him for anything. I absolutely adore babies of all kinds, but the love I have for him is something fiercer, deeper.

So, a year into their relationship, they had my grandson. My son-in-law's family were moving back to Florida from Texas, and he wanted to stay here in Texas for his senior year, after which he planned to go into the Air Force, to do something with his life, to provide for his new family, for many reasons. Mr. Potatohead (son-in-law) stayed behind, with one of his family's close friends, and due to financial circumstances beyond my control, we moved one more time.

Before Mr. Potatohead could enlist, he had to either sign away his parental rights or marry my daughter (AF rules). They got married. It was a beautiful day in a local park, and the story of how it happened is boring and entailed a lot of intense discussions with the man who provided it for them. Suffice it to say I did not get to plan any part of my only daughter's wedding, with the exception of her godmother walking her across the bridge aka down the aisle. I might still be a little miffed about that.

This time when we moved, my parents were footing the bill for a year. We moved into an apartment they chose, and we got the bare minimum - no cable, no phone, no extras of any kind. I even had to stop my meds because I could no longer pay for quarterly visits to the doctor. Things got really tight. But worse, Mr and Mrs Potatohead were separated by more than just a couple of miles of walking. It was difficult for all of us, but especially for them - being newly married and not able to live together and experience the pregnancy together sucked.

In the new school system, there was a separate special school for pregnant girls (and other high-dropout-risk kids), where they could work at their own pace and complete their education in a more relaxed environment. This was the first time my daughter actually surprised me in a good way. She finished her entire senior year by the end of October. This woman, my daughter who had always all but hated school, applied herself and managed to finish everything so that when she walked down the halls of that school with their every Friday graduation, in her purple cap and gown, she was accompanied by her newborn son, in his own purple cap and gown. It was an amazing moment for her, and I couldn't have been prouder if she'd been strolling the stage at MIT.

Mr Potatohead got through Basic Training. We went to his graduation at Lackland AFB. He finished Tech School and got his first duty station, in Italy. I didn't know the Air Force sent people OCONUS on their first duty station. Mr Potatohead went first, when Baby Potatohead was ten months old, and several months later, my daughter followed him to Italy, her first move as an Air Force wife.

Once Mr Potatohead had finished high school, he'd moved to our apartment, and after Baby Potatohead was born, he was there, too. So when they all left, I was alone, for the first time in nearly fifteen years, missing my daughter, missing my grandson, missing my son-in-love.

I had no idea what to do with myself. What I'd always considered my life's purpose, raising Mrs Potatohead to happy, healthy adulthood, was accomplished, and I was completely undone by the hole she'd left behind.

I have always struggled with severe depression, and that first year without my daughter left me lower than I could remember ever being. At the same time, I was dealing with packing up that apartment, finding a new place to live, reaching out to people when I could, and hibernating the rest of the time - I'm not good at asking for help. Things got bad; I knew they were bad, though I didn't really understand the extent of my emotional state until I was climbing out of it.

Fast forward (too late, I know) about two years, and I was watching Dollhouse, with Eliza Dushku and Tahmoh Penikett. I adored Tahmoh's character in Dollhouse and wanted more of whatever he'd been in. When I looked him up, there was Battlestar Galactica, and I had vague memories of more than one friend telling me I would enjoy it. I think I'd resisted because what I remembered of the original series was pretty campy and cheesy, and not really to my taste.

I watched it anyway, and before the mini-series was over, I was in love. Absolutely head over heels in love with Kara Thrace. I love Karl Agathon, too, don't get me wrong, but Kara Thrace is a once in a lifetime character, and I can never thank you enough for taking that part.

I was on a serious downward spiral, flailing about without the least notion why the hell I was still here on this planet, and not really caring much if I left, so when you came into my life, I was broken and hurting and aimless and lost.

Thanks to BSG, I got out of my head, cared about something so much I went to the internet to find other people who liked BSG, to find fanfiction, to commune with other BSG lovers. I started writing. I've never written fiction in my entire life, unless it was related to school, and had in fact always felt a little envious that everyone else in my family wrote, and my thing was polishing words instead of producing them. Suddenly I was writing stories, sad and funny and sexy and heartbreaking and wonderful stories. And not only were they helping me cope, people sometimes told me they'd needed that reminder at that precise moment. People liked my stories. My mind was blown.

I am never going to ask you to read any of my stuff (oh my fucking gods, no, Katee), though if you ever accidentally do, I hope you find a deep love and respect for Kara Thrace in it.

Like I said, I started writing. It was my shiny new boyfriend, and writing got me through another really rough year without my kid, and I was still alive at the other end. I met some fantastic women, made friends, learned I had something to offer others, something they needed, got better at writing, and in among all that, I finally figured out what I wanted to be when I grew up. Took me long enough.

I'm an editor, aka a beta reader. I take people's words and make them better. I especially help writers whose first language isn't English to become more comfortable with their words. I seem to have created a niche for German writers. That's fandom, anyway.

I'm also an editor in real life - YA fiction, murder mysteries, LBGT works. I have a small but growing stable of writers who have trusted me with their work, and I'm slowly getting my name out there. I'm not with a big name publishing house. I'm the girl the indie authors can come to, the one they can afford. I LOVE my work, so much that if I could afford to do it for nothing, I truly would.

My first word-love is still writing, though, and Kara Thrace plays a huge part in that. Through her, I've explored birth and death and loss and depression and love and hate and so many other facets of human emotion. She's a fascinating and complex woman, and exploring her, I explore myself. Loving her, I love myself. All those ugly bits from my past found a mirror in Kara Thrace, and if she's lovable despite those "flaws," then so am I. Those old tapes have lost their power over me. I like myself, and that's something I haven't always been able to say.

Kara Thrace had a hard life, and she was one messed up woman, but no matter what, she never stopped loving. Sure, she hid behind sarcasm and cigars and sex and alcohol, but she loved, deeply, even if she pretended she didn't.

I've heard you say in interviews that if you played Kara now, you probably wouldn't be so fearless, that you were young and didn't know any better.

All I can say is, thank you for being fearless, for going ninety to nothing, for putting so much work into Kara Thrace. Because the bottom line is, Kara Thrace saved my life. You saved my life. And I am so fucking grateful for it.

I fell in love with Kara Thrace. And through Kara, I fell in love with you.

Even if you never impacted anyone else's life (which isn't true, anyway), you crashed into mine and pulled me out of some dark place that had almost succeeded in swallowing me whole. I can't truly put into words what you did for me.

But you weren't done.

Last year, my dad and his wife split up. They'd been married nearly forty-two years, since I was eight. They were doing the divorce dance of dividing assets and selling houses and keeping lawyers in expensive cars. My dad and I had been estranged, but he called me, invited me to meet him for lunch, and we had a good talk. He talked about how things had been for him, about falling in love with someone new, about the hold my stepmother had had on all our lives, and we continued to get close again.

He asked me to be his emergency contact at his apartment, asked me to manage the movers, asked me to come take care of him after he had his eye surgery, asked me to be his next-of-kin for medical stuff. We connected again, and had some quality clear-the-air conversations, learned new and surprising things about each other.

Then he started having heart attacks. I was cadging rides in the middle of the night to get to a hospital forty minutes away, terrified every time that he'd die before I could get there, and spending weeks at a time at his place to take care of him when he got out, and even though it was scary as hell, we kept talking. We kept saying the words. We made sure we didn't waste a moment on impatience or negativity.

His final heart attack was on August fifth, a year ago, when he was seventy-two, and though I miss him desperately, I'm beyond thrilled that I got seven fantastic months with him before he went.

Kara Thrace stayed in my head, helping me heal by sharing her many lives with me, and Victoria Moretti showed up, and reminded me family appears in the strangest places, and through those two magnificent women, you helped me through the loss of someone I had just found again, and gave me strength not to break this time.

I have absolutely adored watching you over the last three years. Battlestar Galactica, Longmire, Oculus, even The Last Sentinel (which we will mostly pretend never happened), Haunting in Connecticut, Riddick, cons and interviews and Ask Katee and motorcycle rides with Tricia. Your zest for life, and your unflinchingly raunchy sense of humor, and the obvious love you shower on your friends and family, both two- and four-legged, are not just encouraging, they're life-affirming.

I won't say never change, because hell, we all change. But keep being you, Katee, keep being the woman who makes lives better without really thinking about it. Keep. Being. You. Keep loving hard and living out loud and making the world a better place with your sparkle and shine and your infectious laugh (I LOVE your laugh).

And know, deep inside, there is at least one person on this planet, someone you've never met, who is grateful beyond words for all of who you are, one person who would pick up the phone, day or night, if you ever needed a listening ear yourself. One person who might be the reason you got out of swimming and into acting. The universe works in mysterious ways, right?

Because of my dad falling in love in his sixties, I know that fifty is not too late to find the kind of love I've wanted all of my life.

Because of Victoria Moretti, I'm open to possibilities. My image of who might be out there for me is much more flexible now.

Because of Kara Thrace, I'm ready to fall in love again. Really ready.

Because of you, I have friends I would never have met any other way than through fandom, women who helped keep me afloat during those long months at the hospital and the agonizing weeks after my dad's death.

I don't know what's in store for my next fifty years, but I'm ready for whatever it is, and I have you to thank for it.

I love you.

Thank you.

Book: Secret Sister by Brenda Novak

I received a digital copy of this book from the author in exchange for an honest review.

I had trouble getting into Secret Sister. I kept putting it down and not wanting to pick it back up. Finally, I made myself finish it, because I knew I needed to review it, and I'm glad I did. It got better.

Before I get started with the review, I did notice one big mistake: "she hawked her wedding ring," which should be "hocked," of course. Though the words are both related to selling, they do not mean the same thing.

Okay, so Maisey is in a really down place after losing her child and getting divorced. She's not raw anymore over her marriage, but she's still really broken up about losing her child, and having a lot of trouble coping with the loss her her creativity in the wake of her daughter's death. At the same time, she believes her brother needs her badly, and she chooses to go home, hoping they can each prop the other up and recover with each other's help.

It doesn't turn out that way, as her brother is much deeper than he'd been letting on, and he goes off on a tangent fairly soon after her arrival. Maisey adjusts, carving out a place to live - not in her mother's house - and a job, and goes about the business of recovering her sanity/emotional well-being.

Maisey's mother, Josephine, is a cold fish. Appearances are everything to her, and she uses that to abuse her kids and condescend to nearly everyone. She's really not a nice woman, or so she goes to a lot of trouble to seem.

Over the course of the book, Maisey learns new things about her father, about her brother, and learns that they *might* have had an older sister, once upon a time. The quest for the truth about this possibility is the focus of the remainder of the book. The mystery unravels in bits and pieces, as Maisey finds out many people still talk about her sister, just not to her family. There's never been a question she existed, but there has always been a mystery about what happened to her. The last anyone saw her, she was about ten. She has been assumed drowned off the family's private beach. The big mystery is "who pushed her?" not "what happened?"

Along with the mystery of her family, Maisey meets up with the contractor responsible for repairing hurricane damage to the family's rental bungalows, Rafe. Turns out, she's met him before, and it wasn't an interaction she particularly wants to revisit - it was an embarrassing piece of her teenage past, and she goes forward on the assumption he hasn't changed in twenty years.

Of course, he has. Substantially, and Maisey can't help noticing he's become a man who shoulders responsibility with ease and is genuinely kind to people on the island. He and Maisey become friendlier with the focused assistance of Rafe's daughter, Laney, and Rafe's mother, though the romance is very low key.

Maisey continues to struggle with learning about a sister she doesn't remember, an ex-husband who seems intent on reclaiming lost ground, and the man who keeps offering her friendship - and more - without asking much of her.

I love the way this story was resolved, the way it brought a family to new understandings about themselves and each other, and I'm glad I made myself continue to read it, despite its slow start.

Book: Kindle Worlds (The 100) Blood Bound by Linnea Lund

Full Disclosure: Though I have never met LL, I do know her fairly well through fandom. I am an alpha or beta reader on most of her original fiction books, and have edited many of them. This was not one of those.

I finished binge-watching the first two seasons of The 100 recently, and wanted something more about the characters, just in case the show doesn't return. What is available on AO3 wasn't really satisfying my need to learn more about the characters. I had read and enjoyed a couple of Lund's The 100 works on AO3, before I knew this was a pseudonym for someone I knew.

Lund's characterization of Clarke in Blood Bound is wonderfully in line with the canon portrayal, and Clarke's personal growth over the course of the story is perfectly ordinary, and yet unexpected at the same time.

The book picks up with Clarke when she walks away from the compound at the end of season two.

When Clarke and Bellamy finally see each other again, it's real, not perfect, and their reunion isn't the end of the book. There's so much more to their story, and the slow, steady pace of their romantic relationship is by turns frustrating and delightful.

By the end, Clarke and Bellamy are the adults I always knew they could be, and I believe they can take Earth's inhabitants into the future with their sensible leadership and ability to negotiate.

In addition to Clarke and Bellamy, Lund weaves in canon and non-canon characters I didn't expect, and takes them all in directions I would never have considered.

None of them get out of this free of the grief of losing people they love, but they do walk out into the figurative sunshine at least planning for the future. The hopeful ending is hard-won and worth every moment of reading.

All that said, there were a LOT of mistakes, making me wish I HAD edited the book. I love her work, but she doesn't get an auto-pass on editing just because I know her.

Book: Her Boyfriend and His Best Friend

Surprisingly sweet and well-written very short story about a girl who's drunk enough to jab at her boyfriend and his best friend about how much they want to fuck each other until they do something about it.

The resolution wasn't what I expected, and I like that in a story.

I only found a couple of mistakes, which was also a pleasant surprise. I'll definitely be checking out more from this author.

Book: Taming His Beast

This was a short story with a happily for now ending. It is not a cliffhanger, but I wouldn't call it happily ever after.

I liked that the heroine's hangups were more about her lack of control over her powers, whatever they were, than about her appearance.


The buildup to the first sex scene, the foreplay, was actually hotter than the sex scene, which was a little perfunctory and disappointing. It was more tell than show.

A little bit of work could have expanded the plot, developing both main characters more, and going into greater depth as to the shifter populace's issues with women like Sarah. What little of the plot we got was actually interesting, and I would have enjoyed immersing in this world a little more than such a short story allowed me to do.

It was a fun read, and I'd probably read more by this author.

I received a digital copy of this book from Romance Arcade in exchange for an honest review.

Book: Awakened - Soul Shifters I

I received a free digital copy of this book via Romance ARCade, for the purposes of providing a review.

I first read the short prequel Unraveled, which I also received through RA.

The premise here is interesting, and I liked both the heroine and hero. Gemma is a laid-off schoolteacher who decides on a whim to move to a new community and try to start over. Carson is a guy trying to escape from his family's reputation for criminal activity. Both are smart and I like the chemistry between them. I like the group of friends Carson has gathered around him. They're a good bunch of guys.

The beginning was a little confusing, with bits and pieces of story laid out, then backtracking to "real time" with our main characters. I was even more confused when one of the characters introduced in "real time" was someone whose fate I already know, thanks to the bits and pieces. I didn't much like being spoiled for her future before I even met her.

Finally, this book could have used a serious edit. Misused words, run-on sentences, underused commas, and overused semi-colons abounded, along with context errors (like military people using 12-hour time. Um, no.). The most egregious error was one of the characters stating most people are vaccinated for rabies these days. There is a treatment for rabies in case a person is bitten, but there is no preventive vaccine of which I am aware. I could suspend my disbelief for other parts of it, because it's clearly a story set in a paranormal version of our world, but the rabies vaccination pulled me out of the story pretty hard. There was also a wee bit of headhopping, but unfortunately, I've gotten so used to that in indie books, I only noticed it once or twice.

Still, Tate offers a new twist on the fated mates trope, and I'd like to read more. I can't quite give it four stars. 3.5.

Book: Shattered by Sennah Tate - part of the Soul Shifters serial

I received a digital copy of Shattered via Romance ARCade for the purposes of providing a review.

Shattered is Ty’s story. Through a set of circumstances only possible because of past events, Ty meets Sadie, a woman with a young son. Ty and Noah share an immediate connection through comics, and they get along beautifully. Ty and Sadie share an unusual connection, too, and it confuses them both.

Sadie is accepting of the things Ty shares with her at first, but then the reality of everything becomes overwhelming and she backs away.

The shadows are persistent, though, and Sadie has to go to Ty for help.

This particular segment is a little light on action, more about building the emotional stakes. The segment is complete in itself, but does clearly connect to the full arc of the story. Someone who read only this, though, would likely be dissatisfied with the lack of context for both the antagonist and the relationships among the friends.

There were a few mistakes with words, but this segment was mostly harder to read because of comma splices making run-on sentences almost everywhere.

This is still an unusual take on the Fated Mates trope, and I’m invested enough in the story to read the final segment, Redeemed.

All by itself, this segment of the serial is a three-star read.

Book: Unleashed by Sennah Tate

I received a digital copy of Unleashed via Romance ARCade in exchange for an honest review.

Unleashed is Dez and Alina’s story. Their romance is sweet and slow, their connection quiet and warm, and I enjoyed it quite a bit more.

Isabel and Aaron are heavy in the background of this one, and Izzy continues to be childish and petty with Aaron, who isn’t adjusting well to being in a relationship.

The group has gained more powers as a result of the cemented connection between Izzy and Aaron, though, and Alina remembers and shares more of what she remembers of the Travelers and the fight against the darkness.

When Alina uses her power to locate more Evokers, she ends up connecting at a women’s shelter, and though the counseling temporarily derails her with Dez, she figures her feelings out soon enough.

The writing in this segment was much more even, and I found fewer mistakes.

I do want to continue reading, to learn what new abilities will surface and who will find the next love connection.

Book: Revealed by Sennah Tate

I received a free digital copy of Revealed from Romance ARCade in exchange for an honest review.

Revealed is Isabel and Aaron’s story. The segment opens with Izzy and Aaron at odds with each other over a kiss. Izzy remembers it vividly, and Aaron says it never happened. The argument gets acrimonious and begins to splinter the group’s cohesion.

This book was uneven: the bones of the story continue to be good, but there were more mistakes in this part of the story.

The big problem between Isabel and Aaron is based on one of my least favorite tropes - a complete lack of open communication. Their behavior toward each other is childish and petty, and made them seem more like hormone-driven teenagers than adults. Aaron was especially obnoxious, and the ongoing hostilities left me much more interested in the overarcing antagonist than in whether or not Izzy and Aaron would get their crap together.

Once the group was no longer distracted by their animosity, they began to see patterns and learn more about Preston Waters and how it might be possible to stop him.

Despite the lack of polish, I am interested in the overall story arc, and I will read the next segment.

Books: Surrendered to the Pack/Claimed by the Pack by Anna Craig

I received Surrendered to the Pack and its sequel, Claimed by the Pack, via RomanceArcade, in exchange for an honest review.

I'm not a big fan of serials, especially the ones which leave off right in the middle of an important scene, so I was prepared not to like this one much.

I found it a pleasant surprise to be mistaken. There were a few errors, which I've come to expect in indie pubs, but the cliche concept wasn't quite cliche.

Cassandra is this year's Surrender to the local Wolf Pack. She's twenty-two and still a virgin, but she's not completely without sexual experience. That seems to make her a bit less trepidatious than she might have been otherwise.

She's accompanied to the Pack's house, and the claiming proceeds as expected, until Trevor, the Alpha, does something no one sees coming.

The sex scenes are fairly well-written, focusing more on the sensations and emotions than the Tab A, Slot B mechanical side of things, and thought it's a "lust at first sight" trope, the author makes no effort to turn this into a "love at first sight" thing, which I greatly appreciated.

The book is the first part of a serial, and the book does end without resolving the whole story, but it does not end in the middle of a scene. Though I wanted to continue reading, and thankfully can, since I have the second one as well, I did not want to throw my Kindle at the wall for the abrupt, mid-scene endings I've seen in other serials.

As with almost all indies, Craig could use a good editor to clean up misspellings and some awkward sentence structure, but the story itself kept my attention throughout.

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This is the second in the Wicked Mountain Wolf Pack serial, which I received via RomanceArcade in exchange for an honest review.

The story is still compelling, and the titular claiming was not what I expected. Yay!

There were a few more errors in the beginning of this part than in the first part, but I noticed far fewer as the story progressed. Still, there were some awkwardly phrased sentences which an editor could have smoothed out.

This part of the serial DID end right in the middle of a scene, and though that's sort of irritating, I think I know enough from these first two parts that I can make some educated guesses about how Cassandra's going to extricate herself from the unfortunate circumstances.

I did still enjoy the story, and if you are a fan of serials, I recommend this one.

Books: Magic... by Ilona Andrews

I've been finishing these so fast, I'm just going to throw them all in one update.

Magic Strikes
The mystery of Kate is solved! It wasn't a surprise, but it was quite a doozy.

Saiman is his usual trickster self here, though we get some insight into his backstory, too.

The friendships between Kate and various Pack members are solidified in different ways, and Julie has a cameo.

Nice movement forward as far as Kate goes. I'm already on to the next. lol

Magic Bleeds
Kate faces an ethical dilemma in this one, and I like the way it's resolved. It'll take her in a slightly different but not entirely new direction.

Her big bad is someone closer than she expects, and it's an interesting opponent for her, with some personal consequences.

I'm already on to the next book. Can't wait to see how they up the ante in this one.

Magic Slays
Wow. They really went all out with this one. Kate's firmly ensconced in her new offices, practically bored out of her skull, simultaneously adjusting to her new role as Curran's official mate.

This time, the big bad comes closer than ever, and it takes everything Kate's got and then some to come up with a solution.

I'm definitely enjoying this series, though it's got more errors than I like to see in a professionally published book. I think there's only one left, and I'll have to get that one in print, unfortunately.

Book: Magic Burns by Ilona Andrews

The stakes were bigger in this one, and I liked the way all the pieces fit together to both make this story work and move Kate forward in her own personal arc.

The mystery of Kate's origins will become tedious if it continues to be held out as a carrot for this reader. I want clues or for it not to be the burden Kate believes it will be.

I also want some personal growth. She needs to realize her relationships with others are a strength rather than a weakness.

I'm enjoying the universe/characters enough to keep reading. On to the third, which I've already loaded to my Kindle from the library!

General State of the GrammaGirl

I've been struggling a bit since Dad died. I'm struggling more with a lack of social interaction than directly from grief, which is a little odd. I'm not usually the most social person, but I'm finding more and more I need SOME in-person friendsy stuff to keep me on a more even keel.

I really miss Mrs. Potatohead and Baby Potatohead. Florida's not as far as Italy, but it's still pretty far from Dallas.

The antidepressant is helping, but it's not enough. I'm functioning, but not functioning well. I'm glad I have that little bit, though. It's definitely better than the years I did without any kind of meds at all. I can feel it making a difference, just not enough of a difference. :/

Ten days ago was Dad's birthday, and coincidentally nine months since his death.

I slept through the day. Like nearly forty-eight hours' worth of sleep. I did that again this week. Went to sleep Monday, woke up Wednesday. I'm not sure what that's about, and I'm not thrilled with it. I'm just glad I have the freedom to let my body do its thing.

My editing work is on a bit of a hiatus, as one author has not finished his fourth book yet, and another one is taking her time going through my revisions on book seven. What this amounts to is not having ANY income in February, March, or April, nor thus far in May. That's eating away at my already trying-to-get-blood-from-a-stone budget. I had to ask friends for help last week so I could buy groceries. That wasn't fun - it's not in my nature to be comfortable asking for help, but I'm going to have to get over myself sometime, right? Maybe that's what the universe is waiting for - me to get over myself.

I had another author lined up for December, and that would have been good, but she misunderstood my contract terms and chose to retain her current editor. Life happens. I hope that she'll reconsider in the future, now that I've clarified my contract with her.

I definitely need more editing work, though, so if you know someone who's writing a book, or a paper, or anything with which he or she might need assistance, please let me know. I'm a good editor, and I want to make a living, and my prices are flexible because I work for myself.

For that matter, I can also do transcription, or any number of other things, as long as I can do them from home. I don't travel much to client locations, but I will here in greater DFW.

I'm not getting much writing done lately, either, which is also exacerbating the depression. I use the writing as a coping mechanism, and when I can't write, it just makes things worse. Catch-22.  However, I'm on a bit of a reading kick - finding books at the library which have long been on my wishlist, and I've been reading a LOT. My To Be Read pile never gets any smaller, that's for sure.

Anyway, that's the current State of the Gramma: keeping on keeping on. The Taurus in me plods along well. I'm stubborn for sure.

Book: Magic Bites by Ilona Andrews

It's an interesting world she's created here.

I found Kate's odd way of speaking without contractions annoying, especially since I couldn't figure out if it was intentional or not. When it faded, I'm not sure if I stopped noticing it, or if the writer fixed the dialogue, but I was nearly halfway through the book before that happened.

I've had these books on my Evernote wishlist for quite a while now, so I was pleased to find them available in digital form at my local library. I'm intrigued enough to keep reading, especially since I have the next two already on my Kindle. :D

Book: This Heart of Mine by Brenda Novak

This Heart of Mine by Brenda Novak

I truly enjoyed this one. The people of Whiskey Creek are interesting, and each couple has unique problems.

In this case, Phoenix comes back to Whiskey Creek from prison, and is determined to get to know the son she couldn't raise. She's got serious self-esteem issues, and bends over backward to keep from offending anyone, least of all her son, Jake, or her co-parent, Riley, to earn a place in her son's life. Jake seems equally determined to have her in his life whether she "deserves" it or not.

I have been where she is - not the seventeen years in prison part, but the part where it's safer to keep people away because how can they honestly like me, so I go out of my way to make myself unlikable part. The portrayal of Phoenix's inner workings might seem overdramatic or unbelievable to someone who's never suffered from self-esteem issues, but it's pretty accurate. It takes work and effort to overcome a bad beginning. That's one small part of the story which didn't quite ring true for me: the lack of mention of any kind of mental health work while Phoenix was incarcerated, or after she was released.

Getting glimpses of couples whose stories I've previously read was lovely, and in this case, the "gang" took a very secondary place to Phoenix and Riley and Jake.

The focus of the story was very much on the person with the most to lose - Phoenix. Her relationship with her son develops nicely, with realistic growth of trust and affection on each of their parts. Jake is very definitely a unique kid - a good one - and I'd love to someday read the story of him falling in love himself.

I like that she's determined to stay in her mother's life, that she understands what's driving her mother's behavior (some of it), and that she hopes to address her mother's problems in a slow and realistic way.

I would have liked to learn a bit more about Phoenix's prison friendship with Coop, and I'm very curious about who's buying all of her work, because that seemed to be important, then wasn't ever developed further, but for the most part, the pace and plotting of this one were good. I *really* appreciated that this book ended with a resolution which was very true to this particular couple.

The author gave me a PDF copy of this book in return for an honest review.

Depression as a way of life.

Apologies for the extremely long period of radio silence. Dad's death was hard and I just haven't wanted to deal with writing a post, not that I'm usually a post-every-day girl anyway.

Link to article with more information.

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I'm sharing this as more of a PSA or even a glimpse into my soul rather than any grab for pity or whatever. My depression is something I live with, always have. I cannot remember ever having a period of happiness that lasted more than a few weeks, though from pictures, I was brilliantly happy for the first four or five years. My baseline is below normal, and it's both the way my brain is wired, and long-term effects of a childhood gone way wrong. But my ultimate takeaway is this: I'm still alive. I survived my childhood and if I can survive that, I can survive anything life throws at me. It's gotten harder the last few years, I'll admit that, and suicidal ideation comes up more frequently, but it's not gonna get me. I may not be kicking depression's ass, but it's not kicking mine, either.

I've had to make adjustments to how I live my life. Things that are easy for other people aren't for me. I will gladly spend hours walking through IKEA with someone I love, but I'll pay for it later, and that's a choice I make. These are things I deal with on a daily basis, exacerbated by chronic pain from a body that started to break down in my twenties.

Some of these have been worse than usual since my dad died. The grief hit me much harder than I expected it to, and is compounded by the fact that we'd reconciled some old hurts and were getting to know each other again after half a lifetime of semi-estrangement. Seven months with my dad wasn't nearly enough, but I'm so very glad I had them.

The two glaring exceptions for me are guilt and sensitivity.

I carried around guilt for something big for a long time, but during counseling about eight years ago, the therapist worded his response to my confession in such a way that I was finally able to see, clearly, that what happened to me was NOT my fault. It was like magic! It made an enormous difference in my life. I mean sure, I sometimes wonder if I could have handled any number of things differently, but letting go of the guilt for that thing helped me let go of the guilt for so much more. I'm not ashamed of who I am anymore. I still hold people off, and I'm hard to get to know, but I'm me and I'm cool with that.

I'm not as thin-skinned as I used to be, either. Maybe it's age, maybe it's becoming comfortable in my own skin. Who knows? But I don't care what people think about me anymore. It's none of my business. So when people are intentionally or accidentally hurtful, I no longer take it personally. There are exceptions, of course. Nobody's perfect, for frak's sake, but I tend to respond now, if I respond at all, with a simple, "Thank you." It freaks people the frak out, and is such a state-interruptor they have to think about what they just said, and sometimes, it makes a difference for that person. Do I value people's opinions? Yes. I can use even hurtful words to examine myself and make changes if necessary. But I don't live my life in fear that someone doesn't like me.

Hopelessness comes and goes. Sometimes, things seem absolutely bleak and I can't see a way out, but I still hope, and I keep going, and eventually, things get better enough.

Am I Pollyanna? Not in a million years. Am I happy? Not very often. But I'm alive, and every day above ground is a good day.

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Indifference: Things that used to matter or were once felt to be important fade into the background. You lose enthusiasm and interest.

Energy Loss: It's very common to feel you've done a full day of heavy labor when in fact the day hasn't even begun. Energy loss and fatigue are common symptoms of depression.

Enjoyment bypass: For some reason things don't smell or taste as good as they once used to. Your senses lose their edge and the pleasures once enjoyed diminish.

Guilt: The most human of errors are judged disproportionately. Minor mistakes or indiscretions, even distant memories, may be thought of with shame or guilt.

Tears or Torpor: Some people with depression feel great despondency and sadness and cry a great deal. Others go emotionally flat. They feel flat and hollow inside as though their emotions have been drained.

Aches and Pains: There is often an increase in physical symptoms when people become depressed. They may complain of back pain, headaches or stomach upsets or just a vague sense of feeling generally unwell.

Hopelessness: When people are depressed the world and their future in it seems an altogether bleak prospect. There's often a sense that no matter what you say or do nothing will ever change except perhaps for the worse.

Anxiety: When depression strikes it is invariably accompanied by worry and anxiety and, not uncommonly, one or more stressful experiences is the culprit. The way we respond and adapt to stressful situations can have an important bearing on our vulnerability to depression.

Moodiness: Irritability and general moodiness are common ingredients in the depression mix. You may find yourself becoming impatient, tetchy, argumentative and intolerant.

Sensitivity: People with depression are on high alert for anything that fuels their vulnerabilities. Implied or direct criticism or rejection aren't received well and reinforce a state of worthlessness and hopelessness.

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If reading this resonates strongly for anybody, remember one thing. YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

RIP Paul Ford 08/05/2014

BEDFORD -- Retired USAF Chief Master Sergeant Paul Douglas Ford died Tuesday, August 5, 2014, at the age of 72, with his wife and eldest daughter in attendance.

Memorial service: 2 p.m. to 5 p.m. Thursday, August 28, at 917 Edgecliff Drive in Bedford.

Memorials: In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations be made in memory of Paul Ford to the Children's Advocacy Centers Association of Texas; online at www.cactx.org or by mail to Children's Advocacy Centers of Texas, 1501 W. Anderson Lane, Building B-1, Austin, Texas 78757.

Paul was born in Clovis, New Mexico in 1942, the son of Gilbert and Leola Ford, and raised in Tahoka. He attended Texas Tech University before enlisting in the United States Air Force in 1962 where he served with distinction until 1984. He retired from the HQ Air Training Command at the rank of Chief Master Sergeant, with service in Japan, Korea, Thailand, and various locations in the continental United States.

In 1985 he began his second career with the USAF Civil Service at Kelly AFB in San Antonio, and continued at Tinker AFB in Oklahoma, until his retirement in 2003. He served as chief of the Analysis and Administration Branch and of the Tactical/Trainer Engine Support Branch, and as Logistics Management Supervisor.

In 2003, Paul earned his Bachelor of Science in Management, graduating summa cum laude from Park University, and began his third career as director of Government Programs for Dallas Airmotive, where he worked until his death.

Paul was a voracious reader. He enjoyed fishing and basketball and maintained a bountiful vegetable garden for many, many years.

He will be remembered for his 52 years of extraordinary service to his country, for his willingness to share his wisdom, advice, and guidance, for his love of his family, and for his big laugh.

Survivors: His wife of 42 years, Camella "Candy" Ford; his children, Lana, Loralee, Victoria, Douglas, and Joe; as well as his granddaughter, Amelia, and great grandson, Ryan. In addition, he is survived by many other relatives, friends and colleagues.

My dad and Ryan just before the kids left for Italy. Ryan will turn four in October.

There is a gofundme to get my daughter and Ryan home for dad's memorial. Spread the word if you like.