Wednesday, February 27, 2013


Ok, I got video of Frank the Houseghost messing with the Kinect. It's not the greatest video, but you can see what's happening. And you can see my incredibly messy coffee table.  I intend to post more as I catch them! ZOMG

AWESOME Review of Vendetta!!!

Here's a peek:

"Vendetta was definitely different from any other vampire book I have read. As I have previously stated I have read a lot of them! While I read this book I thought it had the Underworld, Moonlight vibe going on, for those of you who have no idea what Moonlight is, its a vampire show that used to play on t.v, it was epic!!. Anyways back to the topic at hand, this book was beautifully written, it was both intriguing, sorrowful and vengefully delightful. Her characters have a way of sneaking into your heart and messing with your emotions. You can not help your self but to love all of her characters, well minus the bad guys, you will automatically hate them!!"

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Who Wants To Be A Vampire?

Live in the Charleston, WV area? Want your awesome good looks to be featured as far as I can spread you on the internet? Then read on.

My good friends at 10/6 Photography & Arts are teaming up with me for awesome pics for my series, Amaranthine Blood.  We are looking for people to take pictures of, obviously, to represent the two main characters in the series.

You don't have to wear contacts or teeth, just be pretty for the photo shoot. Compensation is minimal because we're poor, but we will feed you and provide loads of entertainment.

Need primarily a tall dude, shoulder length hair, goatee, preferably dark hair & eyes, fit. Willing to have a non-permanent tat painted on.

Also if possible, a female, average height or taller, preferably dark hair & eyes, fit.

If you or anyone you know fits that description and would like to have their pics taken for promo shots and possible inclusion on book covers, shoot an email to


Sunday, February 17, 2013

Playlist for Awakening (Book 3 of the Amaranthine Blood Series)

My wonderful Amaranthine Blood fans, here's your first teaser--THE PLAYLIST SO FAR.  Of course, if you're following me and @DamonMedici on Twitter, you'll have already gotten a few teasers :)  So there's yet another reason to get a Twitter account (if you don't have one already) and follow the crap out of us.

Alright, on to the playlist, in no particular order:

Friday, February 8, 2013

Amazon to Sell Used Ebooks. Are You Fucking Kidding Me?

What's the point of buying something used?  It's cheaper.  You also go into the transaction knowing the product will not be in mint condition--it's been handled by someone else, pages could be crinkled, spine could be cracked, case could have dents and scratches.  You know full well you aren't getting a "new product," and you accept that as part of the deal you're getting.

But when it comes to ebooks, every damn copy is "new."  There aren't any dents or dings.  No cracked spines.  No understanding that someone else's DNA is all over the pages.  No splotches of spaghetti sauce.  It is a digital copy, and therefore is in the very same condition as a brand-new copy.

Calling an ebook "used" is misleading, at best, and a fucking greedy way to make more money by screwing authors at worst.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

ADD--It's Real And In My Face

I know there are a LOT of people out there who think ADD is some made-up diagnosis used to put energetic children on meds so parents don't have to parent.  I would like to talk about how that thinking is a load of total BS.  How do I know it's BS?  Because I have ADD.  And I wasn't even diagnosed until I was in my 30's.

First, everyone should understand that ADHD is not the only type of ADD out there.  There are actually several different kinds of ADD.  My ADD happens to be ADD-PI, which stands for "Attention Deficit Disorder, Primarily Inattentive."  This form of ADD lacks the hyperactivity, and in fact causes extreme fatigue.  The attention problems, however, are the same.

So how do my days go?  For starters, it seems like I can't remember anything.  I can set something down right in front of me and lose it five seconds later.  I'm not making this up.  I rely on others to remember where the hell I've put things and what I'm supposed to be doing.  Even putting reminders on my phone doesn't help--the reminder pops up, I read it and think, "Oh yeah, I've got to do that," then get distracted by something else and completely forget.

Sunday, February 3, 2013

FlashFictionRun is an AMAZING SUCCESS!

This second flash fiction event gave us 15 stories, all of which were a joy to read and host here.  It's an honor to me that so many talented writers participated in this event I have now hosted for a second time, and will host at random in the future.

I would like to take a moment to talk about how and why I started this, and why I will continue doing this for the foreseeable future (besides the fantastic fun of it all).  I got the idea from Ksenia Anske (who, if you haven't followed her, you should because she's just a lovely person).  Ksenia Anske hosted a flash fiction event on her blog, and I thought that was a unique, interesting, and fun thing to do.

More importantly, I thought it was a necessary thing to do.  Indie and new authors have a hard time getting any exposure out there.  Without the resources of a major publisher behind us, we have to work, work, work our tails off just to get even ONE person to give our books a try.  It's a tough world out there for us as we struggle mightily to make a career out of something we love doing.

The Lonely Book by Danica Rice

                It lay there, unmoving. Nobody ever picked it up. Not even housekeeping staff. They touched everything else, but not that book. Everyone who entered the immense library was struck by that particular book, but still, no one touched it.

                In the elegantly old fashioned clawfoot armchair across from the book, a man sat, sharp nosed, eyes just as sharp, spectacles perched upon his nose below bushy white eyebrows solidly furrowed in the moment.

                His diminishing senses would perk up every time a new person entered the room, looking through him, at the book, shuddering, and always shifting focus to other books upon the shelves.

                Why, why won’t anyone look at it? Look at it! Look at me! Solve my mystery!

Saturday, February 2, 2013

Excerpt from The Other Side of the Mirror by Casey Roach

                His eyes flickered from sadness to sadistic delight. Edda sat back in her cage. The longer the man stared at her, the more frightened she was.

                “Are you going to kill me?”

                The man thought a moment, his head resting on the metal bars. He looked at Edda intently.

                “Why would I need to do that?”

                Edda shrugged her shoulders, too afraid to answer.

                “Are you going to give me a reason to kill you?”

Living While Dying by Mikaila Manesh

     I still remembered it like it had happened yesterday. I walked to graves of my family. I still felt the survivors guilt every day, but I lived for them. I closed my eyes as I laid the orchids on my mother’s grave. I could still hear her voice sometimes. I was the closest to her out of my parents. She could make me smile on the bluest of my days. I sniffled as the flashback hit me hard like a sucker punch. I felt my body hit the ground as I squeezed my eyes shut.

     I walked into my home. The house was dark, and that was nothing unusual as light flickered out from the living room. My father was probably waiting up for me. That was normal for him. He always wanted to protect us no matter what. I quietly hung up my coat as I tiptoed to the kitchen. I was dying of thirst. The small room at the club had gotten hot during the concert. I flicked on the light and everything was in disarray. The kitchen was torn apart. I instantly felt my stomach drop as I backed up and started to walk to the living room slowly.

Friday, February 1, 2013

The Invisible Fire by Bridget Prestwick

            "I don't feel right about this. Isn't this some kind of violation of doctor-patient privacy or something?" That was just an excuse. What I really didn't like was the idea of my eight months pregnant wife walking right into a potential murder scene.

            "We're just bringing them some goodies and checking to see if they need a hand with anything. Maybe they'll return the favor once Michael is born." Grace gave her stomach a loving rub. "I think it's just about time to start setting up play dates."

            I swallowed a tennis ball sized lump in my throat and pressed the door bell, but no one answered. My stomach rumbled, but not with hunger. "We need to get out of here."  

            "Are you all right?" Grace asked.

            I shook my head. "Something's wrong. I feel it right here." I pointed to my gut.

Crazy Thoughts by G.M. Reinfeldt

                “Is that him?” inquired the soft voice of Bea.

                “Yeah and that slut, too!” the second voice, venomous with rage, belonged to Ann.

                “Shhhh,” Marlene shushed everyone.

                “What does it matter no one can hear us,” Ann could not hide the rage that played at the edges of each word.

                “Maybe we should forgive him?” meekly questioned Bea.

                Marlene turned the key.  She gripped the steering wheel tighter and pulled out of the parking space.  She followed behind the couple for a few blocks.  The couple stopped for him to buy his companion a single rose.

                “Ahhh, how sweet,” Bea admired.  “He is such a good man.”

                “Riiiiiight.  What a sweetie.  He is cheating on us,” Ann pointed out.

And So It Begins (An Amaranthine Blood tale) by Damon Medici

(Note: This takes place after the second book in the series, Insurrection.  If you've read Vendetta, this ought to intrigue you; if you've read Insurrection, this ought to drive you batshit crazy about what's going on.  Which is, of course, the whole point.)

            Where do I begin?  I've been an ass lately; that isn't like me, but I can't help it.  This ache tears at me day after day while I sit helpless to do anything about it.

            I have to get back.

            The echoes drift to me from time to time, fraying the edges of my sanity and slicing me like so many poison-dipped knives.  Too much more of that, and I might go mad…though madness might be preferable to this sane torture I'm enduring now.

             I have to get back.  HAVE TO.

A Tub Full of Blood by Aliaa El-Nashar

                “He’s back, the ‘Bathtub Killer’, this is definitely his M.O.”

                It seemed that after the girl’s body was found, everywhere he went people seemed to be in agreement over that, they all insist that he has returned. The whole police department was already strategizing, pulling up old files, calling in the big guns. They were all over themselves trying to be prepared for who they assume is responsible.

                One couldn’t help but wonder if they were enjoying the panic, after all it has been over fifteen years since a crime grave enough to reach these gruesome proportions was committed in town. So, even though they were all horrified, they were still relishing in the new gossip material spreading around. After all, heaven forbid, you wouldn’t want it to turn quiet and peaceful around now would you?

Excerpt from Midas Touched by Megan Paasch

"You do know you can take it all back?" The doctor peered at Kat over the rims of his glasses.

"Take what back?"

"The talents you’ve enhanced, of course."

She laughed. "I can't do that." Ridiculous. If she could, she’d know, wouldn’t she?

“Certainly you can. Have you never tried?”

No, she hadn’t. How would it even work? Giving talent was involuntary. But taking it away?

"How do you know this?"