Just a THANK YOU!/update/other words

Here – catch:  a heart-felt (and probably painfully loud so you might wanna step back a bit…a little more…a little…ok, that should be about right) THANK YOU!!! to everyone who has donated to the GoFundMe!!!!

You are the very BEST readers and I absolutely appreciate every single one of you anyway, but your response to the GFM has truly blown me away.  Your support really does mean the world to me.

(I didn’t set the account up so I don’t know how GFM works so I don’t know how to individually thank the fantastic people who donated but I did want to thank you guys somehow!)

A better THANK YOU!!??

Eeeennyway…

The campaign has not ended.  I still have to go for daily super-strong antibiotic IVs (“infusions” or if you wanna be all medical, “infusion therapy”), bi- and sometimes tri-weekly doctor (usually nurse) appointments, and I have at least one (probably two but I’m hoping the dr forgets) more surgeries in my future.  (Oh, the joy.)  Bluntly, I’m doing a LOT better health-wise but I ain’t out of the woods yet – it was just *that* bad, previously. 

Here’s the handy-dandy link in case someone’s won the lottery:

https://www.gofundme.com/paying-it-forwardhelping-karen

Fic-wise, I *have* been thinking about my stories, especially The Moon and One Night.  Thinking…but not writing yet.   You’d think having to remain off my foot (and in/on bed/chair/wheelchair as I’m STILL not allowed to put ANY pressure on my foot AT ALL) for 23.5 hours a fucking day would be conducive to writing, however…it is not.  I’m still too damn frustrated over all this mess *to* concentrate effectively on all the ins and outs of my fics. 

(Why did I have to go and make them so dang complicated?  Granted they’re not nearly as complex as many of our other writers’ plots are, but still…*grumph*)

I did want you to know that I have not forgotten my fics, and I haven’t forgotten you guys, either.  This health mess is just taking for-freakin’-ever to resolve.  But it’s getting there.

Eventually.

Thank you again, and I really appreciate your patience, your kind support, and of course if, your hard-earned cash.   (You knew I was blunt, right?  I mean, rly, you knew this already, right? *innocent face*)

*snicker*

~Mer

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Pondering Our TB/SVM Fandom ♥

Since True Blood ended/died in a bloody massacre, there have been thoughts, fears, and vague mutterings that our beloved fandom is dying (quickly, slowly, or otherwise). 

I don’t see it that way. 

To me, let’s just say that our fandom has become more… streamlined.  We started out as “a group of everyone” including the rabid, the flighty, the vaguely interested, the temporary, and the totally dedicated…and everyone in between.  Now, thanks to life and its sometimes-great, sometimes-cruel hand, we’ve evolved – we’re now distilled into a harder, stronger core group of readers, writers, and “both”.  At least, I like to think so. 

There are TB/SVM readers left and there are TB/SVM writers left, and the floor is always open to new readers and writers wanting to explore all-things-Eric-Sookie-Godric/etc.  Some readers only have a few minutes or hours a week to read, and some writers may only have a few stories to tell while others have many, but all are still welcome in our rather resilient fandom.

As for me, I’m not stopping, not yet.  I have stories to finish, and there are still some plots buzzing around in my woozy head that may demand to be told.  Thanks to a nasty medical emergency it might be a while until I can get things calmed down enough to actually write the words down on virtual paper, but they’re still in there somewhere.

Sadly, some of our writers didn’t want to leave yet life took them from us too soon and we’ll forever mourn their loss.  For hopefully better and never worse, quite a few of our writers have been swallowed up by their daily lives and left the fandom for innumerable reasons, and while we hope they’ll find their way back to us someday, we wish them well.

And then…there are the writers who have sharpened their teeth in our world and  gathered their courage to move on to other projects – our lovely Gyllene (click over and give her some love!) is the latest to venture forth on her own fantastic journey.

I want to wish her well on her future publishing venture and remind her that the door to our TB/SVM fandom is always open.  Her fanfiction talent will be sorely missed (and maybe she’ll bring coffee if/when she does return!) but I do hope to read her published works far sooner than later.  With her, I don’t sense that this is “goodbye”; it feels more like a “see ya soon…hey wait, Eric did what?!?” 

Again, our fandom isn’t <insert negative or melancholy thought here> – we’re simply streamlining – distilling down to our core, dedicated group of lovely readers, writers, and “both”.  And that proverbial door is always open!

More later,

~Mer

HEAD. DESK. – repeat x infinity

Massive icky medical bullshittery (in hospital 11 days)…discharged home Friday…has lead to Maximus Lifeus Fucking Interruptus for me.  Yep, I’m home now (and, srsly, thank God because if I had to spend ONE MORE FUCKING NIGHT in that rabid-marshmallow SUCK YOU IN AND NOT LET YOU GO torture device the medical community calls a “hospital bed” I would fucking blow an artery – really, have you ever tried to even just TURN OVER in one of those fuck-ass pieces of bondage shit?  Forget about trying to scooch around to get comfortable – it ain’t gonna happen) and slowly, slowly… – OMFGODRIC OH SO FUCKING SLOWLY – recovering, but now commences the ensuing daily – sometimes hourly – load of (bullshit-infested) You Have Got To Be Shitting Me + This Is A Load Of Bullshit * What, Again?? chaos.

At the end of it all, though, I am alive.  My nerves are rattled, my daily life is disordered to fuck-all and back, and my sanity after all that may be questionable (fucking hospital beds and their “breathing” mattresses meant to keep bed sores, kind thoughts, and actual rest away can go fuck themselves with their electrical cords), but life goes on in all its battered, misbegotten, ill-spent glory.

I am working on fics – I am (dude, SEVRIN anyone??) – but I doubt Eric would appreciate it if I went off on a rant during a “tender scene”.  (I dunno…he’s a vampire of experience…he’d probably get a kick out of it;  Sookie…not so much, and I’m not gonna go pissing off fairy hybrids, well, not yet…)  Sevrin would probably kind-of maybe get off on some of my tangents…well, in my imagination he would…  *dreamy sigh*  Oy – someone call Willa off me!

So, that’s the State of My Life now.  Ah, the joys…

(Place awkward transition here) All this shit is expensive (the pain, aggravation, and the accompanying bitching/whining are free, though, fwiw…lucky me), all of it, even stupid medical supply things and drugs that you’d never thought you’d have to have, the costs of hospital stays and “specialist” consults and x-rays and a vampire-colony’s worth of blood tests every hour…  *sigh*   A wonderful friend of mine started a GoFundMe for me and while it might be bad form to hawk it here, well… *pfft*…catch:

https://www.gofundme.com/paying-it-forwardhelping-karen

Donate if you want, broadcast if you want – I tucked it in here at the bottom of the post all sneaky-like so that no one would feel obligated.  I’m awesome like that (or at least I try).

Anyway, hope you guys are having a better day/week/month than I am.

~Mer

NOTE AND APOLOGY TO MY READERS

Due to recent events, my muse has rolled up her flying carpet and taken off into the wild blue yonder.  The holidays took their usual chunk of my time and energy, of course, but the real culprit?  Long story short, I found out that a beloved family member was diagnosed with cancer and within a week of hearing about it (she’d kept it secret – hadn’t told ANYONE – for a long while), she died. 

I’m still reeling.

I hadn’t even gotten used to the idea of her being sick before she’s alluvasudden gone forever.

Devastating.

Erics and Sookies, Godrics and Cara and/or Claudy, Willa…even Sevrin and Stan/Richard…they’re all waiting patiently for my weeping muse to feel safe enough to come back home.  (They’re currently playing Monopoly…not sure how that’s gonna go…Eric1 and Eric2 are hogging all the good properties…)  Even Andre dropped by and gave me an awkward little shoulder pat before making his excuses.  Emma hung out a bit with coffee and sympathy, though – she’s nice like that.

Sevrin just grunted.  I think it was consolingly but I’m not sure, but there was a vampire head-nod involved so I guess it was meant well?    Godric2 offered to deliver unto me the hearts of my enemies and Cara was nodding her head in agreement just a little too seriously, but it was altogether heartwarming.

Sort of.

Pam flung a spendy bottle of pink nail polish at me and told me to cheer up already.

That Pam…

Anyway, just wanted to check in with y’all and let you know what was up…which is to say, not my mood.

Death sucks even when it’s a well-disguised blessing.   Hug your loved ones and keep them close.

As for updates, they’re coming, eventually, when the world rights itself again.  I’m working on things as I can, but the results aren’t very coherent yet.  It will just take some time, and we all know how the FLM can be, right?  She might strike at midnight…or midnight two weeks from now.

(I secretly hope that maybe letting you guys know what’s up will help clear the way for the weeping muse to make her way back home, maybe.)

~Mer

Just a word about Orlando – not fic related so skip if you want

I’ve read recently about how some people somehow feel a lack of connection with the mass-shooting deaths and injuries at that club (Pulse) in Orlando.

Now, I don’t see these people as mean/bad/terrible, not really, not at heart.  It could be that they’re suffering from “disaster fatigue” or “compassion fatigue”, and with so many mass shootings being allowed to happen in America, I can certainly understand where they’re coming from.

It might be that they don’t personally know anyone “in that community”, meaning the non-straight community.  I can kind of see that – if you’re not family or friends with someone in a marginalized group of people, the trials and tribulations they have to endure on a daily basis just don’t quite hit home with you, therefore you wouldn’t necessarily feel a meaningful (emotional) connection when preventable tragedies like this occur.

It might be that the disconnected are so terrified of some mythical MIBs bounding up to their door to “steal their guns” that they pretty much believe that any deaths are acceptable losses so long as they get to keep their precious automatic/semi-automatic/assault rifles/whatever name people use for guns capable of quick mass murder.  My rose-colored glasses want to believe that these people really are not as cold-hearted and illogical as they seem to be, but I honestly don’t know.  (If you’re part of this faction, please unfollow me.)

And then you have the people who, whether at the heart or on the fringes, used to be a part of that stricken community, people who were besties and shoulders to cry on, people who would gladly dance the night away to celebrate the successes of someone in that marginalized group, who would sob and hug and drink till daylight comes to ease the horrors of daily life with the affected.  People…people who  can’t be there now, who can’t hug and be held, who can’t cry on and be cried on, people who grew physically distant because of life and jobs and the acquiring of other dreams that took them thousands of miles away…and so they grew away from the heart that beat so strongly.   A natural feeling of disconnect will seep in – especially in times like this, and in a weird way that makes the loss even worse for them.

For the most part, I think this weird feeling of being disconnected from the ever-increasing number of tragedies has more to do with just how big America is – from sea to rising sea.   This didn’t happen in YOUR neighborhood.  This likely wasn’t even in your STATE.

You’re not close enough to smell the blood or see the intestines scattered across the bloody floor.  The brain matter slowly oozing down the wall probably didn’t belong to “one of yours”, the spilled contents of some woman’s purse are meaningless to you, the unanswered phone ringing in the dead man’s pocket isn’t your call going eternally unanswered.

Thing is, these deaths ARE meaningful to someone.  Moms and dads lost their daughters and sons, cousins lost cousins, brothers and sisters lost brothers and sisters, and sometimes, daughters and sons lost their moms and dads.

Friends lost friends.

I wish I had the dubious luxury of feeling that disconnect, but these people were sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, cousins, and yeah, moms and probably some dads, too.

And best friends.

More than that, though, every single person murdered was the living embodiment of hopes and dreams, hard work and play, fun, sweat, tears, love, loss, success.

That…I can’t disconnect from.  Did I personally know anyone “over there”?  No, but…no matter how commonplace these senseless, meaningless, preventable tragedies have become, when people die, dreams die, love dies, and hope dies.

And that does affect us all.

Thank you for reading.

~Mer

A WHERE-I-AM PLUS A SEISMIC THANK YOU

(I started to type this in all-caps so it would appear that I have more energy than I actually do but the constant need to correctly capitalize sentence starts and proper pronouns just made it look stupid so fuck that.  I’m tired.  There.  I mumbled it sorta out loud.)

First of all I want to thank my FANTASTIC, BRILLIANT, WONDERFUL, AMAZING, AND DID I MENTION FANTASTIC? readers for all your VERY much appreciated love and support of the new story!  Y’all have absolutely blown my (invisible, because it’s hot here) socks off with your comments and likes!  As you know I love replying to comments – it gives “us”, the reader and the writer, a great way to touch base with each other, plus you (the collective ‘you’) are such great fun to just chat with, too.  I love being able to do that.  Sadly, between lack of time and feeling like a bulldozed watermelon, replies to this last chapter of ON will have to wait.  Hence, this broad “thank you”.

Godric and Eric thank you2

Now, the five current WIPs all have bits and pieces in the process of being thrown together, and the epilogue/potential (PO-TENT-TSHEL) “future nights” for the (Awww, man, if I go with more nights I’ll have to change the name won’t I?  I dunno…not if I just do the odd night – the odd “one night”- here and there?  Fuck it, I’ll pull a Sookie and deal with it later) now-complete-but-maybe-not story is shimmering around in my oddly-vast brainbox.  

Now for the “but”…cause there’s always an ass involved…

Thing is, I’m one of those people who are sometimes very negatively impacted by the inflammatory response caused by sugar.  Yup – plain ol’ sugar – brown, white, turbinado, cane, beet…you know:  sugar.  As I’m T2 diabetic I usually don’t eat very much of it at a time anyway, so my tolerance to it nosedives.  Then if I, say, give in to the ‘need’ to bake a, say, peach cobbler with, say, too much brown sugar (hey, it’s cool when it caramelizes on the top!) then, say, eat too damn much of the damn thing, I pay like fuck for it for the next couple days. 

As you MIGHT can tell, it, shall we say, “negatively affects” my mood (any laughs that escape my cobbler-hole sound like a death warning), and Advil can only do so much to help negate the aches and pain response.

Dread may have a little bit to do with my desire to remain under my bed, too – my birthday is May 5 and GUESS WHAT:  I get to have a motherfucking ROOT CANAL on that day.  So yeah, the me of me is not a happy fucking camper.

Yay – the tooth will in theory stop fucking hurting.
Boo – it will involve a root canal. ..on my damn birthday.

Oh, and before anyone suggests that I ask the dentist for pain relievers to last from now till then, let me remind you that I live in the “”glorious”” Bible-Belt south where all medical personnel are far more afraid of “”enabling drug addicts”” than they give a damn about those of us in actual pain. Yhep, drug addicts are far more important than pain-ridden patients and doctors, dentists, and whoever the fuck else fearfully and with collapsed balls worship their beloved restrictions to an insane degree.  I vote we direct every ache and pain to those assbastards who would rather regulate against people in pain because they prefer to worship/”protect” damn drug addicts.  I have nothing either for or against drug addicts but damn, don’t make ME suffer because of their shit.

(I may be somewhat biased based on the amount of Advil I’m shoving down said cobbler-hole but GAWD FORBID doctors/dentists around here miss an opportunity to let someone hurt…)

Tolja I was in a shitty mood.  Hopefully after this next week is over I’ll feel more human/humane…nah, I’ll still be in a shitty mood…just might be able to better front it.  At least I never claimed to be all nicey-nice, though, right?

So, yeah, that’s where I currently am.  Have a better day. 

The Moon, Chapter 32, is up for your viewing convenience

Hope you guys enjoy! 

aThe Moon banner 2

It’s been creepy-hot over here in NC-land, like, upper-70s/lower-80s crap – IN MARCH.  But there’s no global warming…nope…none at all…  *tosses scuba gear to all of Florida and affected areas of the Gulf*  (That’s not my excuse for waiting so long to post…it’s just a general bitch/gripe.  My excuse is the throbbing in my brain because ~migraine~…I figure it actually does have to do with the weather shifting; I know my allergies sure as fuck do.)

Have a good one and I hope to get another chapter of (nanner nanner not tellin’) out to ya soon.  I have chapters to several fics in progress so in theory it shouldn’t be too long. 

Yeah, I like my theories.  They come with cookies and hot coffee.

 

HAPPY NEW YEAR!! 2 new chapters, and a lot of words…

(Scroll down past all the inspirational wordage if you’re just wanting to click on the pretty linky-pics.  I won’t know…so I won’t pout.  Much.)

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! 

I’m posting this a bit “early” for several reasons.

One, and honestly the main reason, is to wish all my addictive and discerning readers an extremely awesome, prosperous, healthy, comfortable, cheerful, and peaceful-with-brief-periods-of-desirable-chaos HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

(This VERY early posting is also to give a more timely shout-out to my lovely readers who live “in the future” – I’m lookin’ at you Australia, New Zealand, Papua New Guinea, Russia…and wow – you guys are gorgeous!  Hey, let the rest of us know how 2016 is going, wouldja?)  😀

Srsly, I hope every one of you wonderful living beings – products of the culmination of unknown eons of biological luck, evolution, survival of the fittest, and pure bloody-mindedness – can look back on 2015 with fondness and then bust 2016 wide fucking open with hope, energy, inspiration, dreams, plans, smart work (srsly, don’t work “hard” – work smart), creativity, genius, ambition, motivation, and all those other “get up off your ass and get shit done” words, but I also hope you have plenty of sleep and play and star gazing and staring at the dreams that live in the clouds. 

We all need both. 

I hope you and 2016 have a fantastic time together, raise hell and reach heaven, help kittens and puppies and old people and anyone and everyone else who needs a hand up.  You’re strong and powerful and resourceful and ingenious in your own individual ways, so use your powers for the good of all mankind as well as your neighbors and, lastly but not leastl’y, for yourself, too, because dammit, *you’re worth it.

(*Hair dye not included in the preceding motivational-as-fuck speech.)


The second reason is that Decisions, Chapter 34, is finally up.  Godric does some thinkin’, he and Cara do some talkin’, and Cara…Cara is herself.  (You know how she is.)  Enjoy!!  (Sorry for the wait – I tots blame Godric this time around.)

The third reason is, well, weren’t there are a few of you…maybe a couple…at best a tiny handful…who seemed vaguely interested in Part 2 of BNP?  Huh?  Maybe three, four of you?  So yeah, Part 2 of that is up and ready for your reading pleasure.  The tone of this set of wordage isn’t like last time, so do expect the tone to reflect that.  Your support for Part 1 was truly overwhelming and I appreciate every single word.  Thank you, really – you guys make taking writing-style chances seem not quite so scary.  I only hope you like Part 2 as much…

So yeah, this post is a two’fer!

The final reason I”m posting this here and now instead of then and later?

Why not?

😀

Decisions Story Banner

BNP huge

(The fact that this is my last post of the year is kind of sad…  I’ll see y’all in the new year, though, hopefully!)

Oh my lands…that trailer…oh, yeah, that trailer… AND A GIF!!

The Tarzan trailer…  I’m fearin’ there’ll be no recovering my poor brain from this gutter-trip, and that’s fine by me…

And this that I saw in Gyllene‘s FB group and had to promptly steal for mine (and y’all!):

And then here’s this gif our amazing 4Padfoot made for me – it’s perfect!!

Tarzan gif

My poor brain?  GONE SPLODY. 

GONE.

SPLODY.

And we all know our amazing gif and banner makers are going to be having a field day with this trailer creating all the fantastic things they do!

I’m going to go stare off into space for a while…ignore any drool and/or whimpering…

Brag and Question Time

First up:  brag time (cause that’s how I roll)!

I have some of the very best friends in the fanfic’ing biz, y’all.  If you saw my previous post announcing STC’s Ch. 20, you’ll remember how I made a pitiful attempt at making a banner, right?  Well…me and my big mouth…

Guess what…..

(Ok, ok, I’ll get on with it, geez y’all are impatient!)

I HAVE 2 NEW STC BANNERS!!!  I HAVE ENOUGH NOW TO ROTATE THE PRETTY PRETTY GOODNESS!!! 

Going in order of magical appearance (srsly, these ladies have magic in their mice!):

Lookie what Kittyinaz made me!!

STC 3

Lookie what Gyllene made me!!

STC banner from Gyllene

  I LOVE THEM!!!  THANK YOU LADIES!!!   ❤

Now for the question portion of the evening:  Ok, I plan on having Eric and Sookie play 20 Questions, right?  A couple of weeks ago I was trying to cough up these questions and, well, the ones I came up with were unremarkable at best (more like “butt-ass boring”). 

The scene will have Pam (she’s good in STC, fucking clueless sometimes, but basically good) suggesting to Eric that he and Sookie get their 20 Questions on…which is great and awesome…but what the hell are the questions gonna be???

That, my dears, is where YOU come in.    I’d love to hear YOUR suggestions of the kinds of real questions Eric and Sookie might ask each other in a situation where they are honestly and seriously, and sometimes humorously, trying to get to know each other.  I’m looking for serious questions, and I’m also looking for funny and/or witty questions. 

In my head I see some of these questions coming from “Pam” – most of which Eric will refuse to ask Sookie because of their snark/smut content, that sort of thing,  and he will “replace” those questions with his own more realistic ones, and some will have come from “Eric” to begin with. 

(He’s going to surprise Sookie with this to show her that he really does want to get to know her better.  He’s awesome like that…)  *sigh*

Sookie will naturally love this scenario and will come up with her own questions to ask Eric…so yeah, I’ll need some of those, too.

So, lay some Eric to Sookie and Sookie to Eric questions on me and if they’ll work in the scene, Imma be usin’ them.

Thanks, and srsly, love my new banners…!  😀

 

 

 

So this is it… Lol, Act 3 of the Andre crack fic is up and that POS is now complete!

Several of you fantastic fuckers have been going through some rough times here lately, and this silly crack fic was meant to bring you a few giggle-snorts, maybe a full-on belly laugh (ok, so I really wanted at least some of y’all to pee your pants laughing, but it’s ok if you didn’t…I won’t pout…much…*dabs eye with tissue*). 

I love thinking that I’ve brought a bit of sunshine, or at least some fun snark, to your life to brighten your day.  Life can suck donkey ass at times and if I can use my words to bring fun and joy to my fuckawesome readers, then that’s what Imma gon’ do.

So here.  This is the third and final “Act” in this mess.   It’s:

Done.

Finished.

Over and…out.

Clicky the pikky and read and giggle and then tell me I’m pretty (snark) — Just don’t tell Andre I wrote this…(not snark) :

A Parody in Three Acts banner

 

Regarding Kittyinaz’s new site

Just in case you didn’t receive her blog posted a few minutes ago, Wendy moved her site from WP to self-hosted, and we wanted to make sure her readers were receiving notifications of posts, so I’m gonna nag y’all to be sure that you either received her post a few minutes ago, or to go to her site (click below) and sign up for email alerts.

So, nag*CLICK THAT*nag —>  KITTYINAZ’S NEW SITE

I blame this on…

I was nominated by Gyllene and Kittyinaz for this…award?  Nomination?  I’m calling it an awardynation…

Here are the rules for this awardynation:

  1. You must thank the person who nominated you and include a link to their blog.  (Thank you Gyllene and Kittyinaz and anyone else I may have missed!)
  2. You must list the rules.  (Which you’re reading here…)
  3. You must add 7 facts about yourself.  (Upcoming…keep reading!)
  4. You must nominate 15 other bloggers and comment on one of their posts to let them know they have been nominated.  (Nope – see later…)
  5. You must display the award logo and follow the blogger who nominated you. (Voilà!)

aone lovelyOooookay, so:

1.  I hate coming up with facts about myself.  While I’m extremely verbose for a private person, I’m *still* a private person.  My (numerous and loudly-given) opinions?  I can go on about them for days (erm, yeah, sorry/not sorry ’bout that) … but talking about myself is tantamount to nails on a chalkboard for me.

2.  I have the annoying ability to love the person but hate the action.  I’m not a pushover by any means and can (read:  will) hold a hearty grudge for eons, but I can see beyond the action to the person behind it.  (I think this comes from having too much Libra in my Taurus charts, but hey…)

3.  I’m allergic to chocolate and lobster, and most roses make me sneeze, so romantic dinners with me take some planning.  Heirloom roses are fine (although I vastly prefer lilacs, lily-of-the-valley, and yard violets).

4.  In reading and in life, I (also vastly) prefer lingering meaningful glances, a fingertip slowly stroking along an arm, and a soul-deep kiss while pushed up against a wall to that “fuck me now” nonsense.   Classy anticipation truly is the best foreplay.

5.  Many of you already know that I’m a perfume, purse, and small container addict, but you may not know that I also collect and treasure bits from antiquity.  Celtic brooches, Mesopotamian pendants, Roman glass, Herodian oil lamps, coins…I love and collect them all.  I’ve been an archaeologist in this life and apparently was in several others, too.  😀

Eh…two more things, right?  Erm…

6.  I’m violently protective of animals, old people, and women’s rights.  If I could, I would open my own elder-care facilities to provide dignified, caring medical and life-enhancing services.  I would gladly provide in-home as well as “live here happily with us” services so that our senior people (and their pets!) could actually ENJOY their final years on this mudball.  I would also open and run my own billion acre pet sanctuary where abandoned (for whatever reason) pets  – yes, *shiver*, including pet snakes…*more shivering*…  would be cared for, loved, and allowed to live safety and comfortably.  If I had my say, no animal would ever be killed because of over-crowding or human stupidity.

Hey, I can dream, right?

7.  Obviously I am a dreamer, and my motto for that is:  If you’re going to dream, dream big.  And of no relevance whatsoever, I also dream of winning the lottery.  Often.  😉

(And yes, life without chocolate does, indeed, suck ass.)

““““““““““““““““““““““““`

Who Imma nominate?

No one.  If you want to play, play.  If you don’t, don’t.

*This could be because pretty much everyone I would have listed has already been pinged with this, lol.  You’re all glorious and I’d love to hear about you, so DO post something telling us about your fine selves if you wish!

~Mer

““““““““““““““““““““““““`

Alex in the shower

*Gratuitous pic of Alex in the shower is never gratuitous*

~ Just a status update ~

Hello all you awesome readers…if any of y’all are left!

Unfortunately this isn’t a new chapter…of anything – it’s just a notice to let y’all know that I haven’t forgotten ANY of my stories even though it’s been a while since some of them have been blessed with an update.

(I’ve been told that half-written, unposted chapters don’t count which sucks because I have a lot of those!)

Here lately my life has been slightly busier/more insane than usual, and sometimes something has to give. That something, sadly, is usually my writing/creative time. I do what I can as I can, but I absolutely detest trying to force myself to crank out chapters solely to have something to post. I feel that pumping out sub-standard material, or even chapters that I’m not satisfied with, is disrespectful to my readers, the characters, and to the story itself.

I’m of the “if you’re going to do something, do it right” school of thought, which, translated, means: y’ain’t gettin’ nothing new today…but maybe tomorrow.

Just don’t quote me on that.   😉

The other problem is that my muse is a batty little shithead.  On the rare occasions I *do* have time to sit and write, she’s rarely cooperative. She’d rather do just about anything other than muse-up and help keep Eric from being too stoic or Sookie from being flighty or Andre from being pissy…well, pissier than usual…or Emma from being miffed or Godric from being violently angry or Cara from being…too Cara.

You get the drift…

And on a completely unrelated note, I’m now taking applications for a new mu…hey, stop it! Ow!  Dammit! Ok, ok, get your shit together and you can stay ya barmy little bint!

Oi. Muses these days…

Anyway, excuse the tardiness and send coffee. My muse and I are both bribable. It might not buy me more time to actually write, but it’d make us both happy!   😀

Just a little self-promotion/I’m bored and it’s Tuesday

Hey, at least I’m honest…

Did you have a chance to read Kittyinaz’s TB/SVM interview of my lovely self for The Non-Canon Awards site?  If not, here

Srsly, though, not only do I love the questions she came up with (she’s interviewing and reviewing other writers too!!!), but I *also* wanted to promote her involvement with The (awesome) Non-Canon Awards site (which is also running a Twisted Fairy Tale contest, too!).

Plus I’m bored. 

Go read!  Then go write!!  😀

Here’s a pretty picture so your time wasn’t wasted:

EricAndSookie Banner MATERIAL

 

Update – of a sort: The Guys, or, What I’ve Been Doing Instead of Writing Chapters

The Guys

Eric nudged Godric.  “She’s at it again,” he whispered as he glanced toward his Maker to make sure he was watching her progress instead of pining after his Cara.

Godric obligingly looked over at the busy writer, and allowed a brief grin to grace his firm lips.  “Ah, yes, so she is.”

The Other Eric, the one fervently wishing the short round brunette was writing about himself, snorted.  “She had best come up with something good.  Can you believe it?  She’s got me writing letters to Sookie.  Letters!  Gagh,” he spat.  He wanted action and romance, and while he doubted that the so-called writer would let him, he wanted to command Sookie to look at him while he poked and rubbed her internal love cave until she screamed his name.  He loved it when she screamed…it made him feel like such a man.  He sighed his impatience dramatically.

The Other Godric, the one on the back burner for so very long, scoffed at the other vampires.  He had been patiently waiting to continue his own story with his own Cara for months upon months now.  The waiting was killing him, but he kept a firm hold… anticipating was, indeed, half the pleasure.  “Patience, my dear friends, patience.  She is only one woman with many more responsibilities than just writing her stories, or “fics” as I’ve heard them called.  You must allow her flighty muses a chance to settle down.”

For the millionth time that night, Other Eric once again wished that this Godric of such respect and fame had been his Maker.  He would readily admit that he was thoroughly envious of that Eric for having such a kind, generous, knowledgeable and respectful Master. The ancient vampire had such a presence, such a personal power about himself, and had a reputation the world ’round for being calm, cool, and collected.

Ah well, he considered, at least this idiot writer, who had him writing fucking LETTERS of all things, was attempting to write his story.  That Eric could fuck off for the time being.  And this writer did have a reputation for giving her stories “happily ever afters” – a nice consolation for having to wait for so damn long.

“Fuck!”

The gathered vampires turned en masse at the growled explicative, and all but one was alarmed to see who had joined them in their collective waiting.  However, seeing a third and a forth Eric in their midst didn’t surprise them a bit.

They all nodded warily and shuffled a bit to make room for the tall blond torturer.

“Andre,” welcomed one of the Erics as he shoved a warm bottle of Royalty Blended toward the slightly younger vampire.  At least this writer had the sense to provide them with something better than that putrid True Blood everyone faked a rave about but no one believed.

“She’s on a new story?  Really?  Like she wasn’t slack-assing on enough already,” Andre ranted furiously.  “I’ve got too much to do for her to be wasting her time like this!  I have a fight to prepare for, a kingdom to take over, my Mate to prepare to take her rightful place as my queen, and my normal duties to perform!  I don’t have time for this shit!”  He flung himself into his seat and banged his fist on the table.

Other Godric just smiled in understanding as he placed a restraining hand on Andre’s clinched fist.  “Calm yourself or risk worrying your Mate, young one.  Your time will come.”

The Erics watched as Andre did, in fact, successfully attempt to calm himself.  Shocked, a couple of the Erics wondered just how much power this Mate of his held over him.  No one controlled Andre except Queen Sophie-Anne, and even she worked “with” him, never “over” him.

The writer once again drew their attention as she rose to make herself another cup of coffee.  Well, Godric didn’t notice…he had returned to contemplating just how to get into his Cara’s pants.  Although it was hit and miss there for a few minutes, he had truly enjoyed spending time with her in her apartment, and she seemed to have enjoyed it, too.  Was it too soon to fuck her yet?  They had talked, after all.  He really wanted to fuck her.  And drink her, too, but mainly he just wanted to thrust his hard, cool man part into her soft, warm, wet woman part over and over until they screamed each other’s names.  Then he wanted to do it again.  And again…

Eric smirked as he gave up on trying to keep his beloved Maker’s attention focused, then sighed as he thought once again about this Sookie who was driving him crazy.  Why couldn’t she just admit that she wanted to fuck him as much as he wanted to fuck her?  Well, maybe not quite as much, after all he did have more than a thousand years of sexual experience and knew much more than she the pleasures that could be gotten from flesh rubbing against flesh.  He hated having to admit that he was just as captivated by her fire and her loving generosity as he was with her luscious body.

As the writer finally went back to her seat with two cups of coffee – did she really need one for each hand? – one of the newest Erics began thinking about his own problems with his own Maker who was curiously absent from this impromptu meeting.  He had to do something about rectifying the situation with the FoTS, and he had to be sure that Raban, he mentally cursed the name, paid for his crimes.   The only reason he was wasting time watching the slow-ass writer was because the upcoming chapter, the one everyone was waiting on, was her responsibility instead of the other co-writer of his story.  He admired how well the two writers had managed to work together, and hoped they were serious about giving his story a happy ending.

Finally!  Success!  Her pudgy little fingers were actually banging out words on that rather dusty keyboard!  Ahhh!  A whole page!  She’d managed to write a whole page!  There was progress being….shit.

Annnnd, here comes a cat.  Admittedly he was a beautiful cat, very large with long solid-black fur and a fox-like tail, but damn, he couldn’t entertain his own self to save his life, could he?

Seeing how things were going, Other Godric shook his head and rose.  “Erics, Andre, my son,” he nodded toward his own Child silently observing the proceedings.  He was happily Mated with his own Sookie, but didn’t mind providing silent support to the Erics, and others, who weren’t yet so lucky.

“I bid you adieu.  My story is many more months away, so I shall return to my own Cara.  Godric,” he called, hoping to gain the ancient vampire’s attention, “whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t.”  He chuckled at his likeness’s guilty reaction.  “Your Cara, if she is anything like mine, will always surprise you and keep you on your toes.  Give her time, let her come to know who you really are, and her love will heal all your wounds.  You may trust me, and yourself, on this.  Treat her with patience, complete honesty, and respect.  Allow your humor to shine through, and your intelligence.  She will amaze you.”  He held the other vampire’s eye long enough to be sure that his warning and advice were accepted before turning to the vampires not his own.

“Erics?  The same advice applies to you, and to you, as well, Andre.  Always respect your women, treat them well and with loyalty, compassion, and sensuality.  Never command or order them for they will not accept your domination.  They are your equals and you will fair best if you remember that at all times.”  When he sensed their discomfort at his last statement, he paused to regain their complete attention.

“Yes, you are older and much more experienced than they are.  Yes, it is your responsibility to protect them, and to guide and educate them about your world.  You will do this in a loving manner,” he commanded strongly, “because you love them, not to own or command them in any way.  Yes,” he snickered at their confused and disbelieving expressions, “I said “love” because that is exactly what you feel for your ladies.  You will see,” he assured them softly.

“Take your time, use your words, and never order, compel, or belittle them.  Listen to them, and ensure that they hear you and your words.  Remember that this is all new to them, and allow them the chance to grow and bask in your respectful admiration.”

With a nod, the ancient vampire was gone.

Slightly shocked and with much to consider, the other vampires slowly departed, each lost in his own thoughts.

The writer grinned.

The muses drank her other cup of coffee and apologized for biting her thumb.

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Melodramatic whine – feel free to join in

I’ve been told that I should show more of my words than just the ones in story form.  It’s been an off day, so here’s this:

Have you ever felt like you’ve just been around way too long, that you’ve already walked way too many miles in your shoes, only, you’re barefoot?

Have you ever felt like you’ll never see or hear or feel anything new ever again, that you’ve seen or heard or felt all there is, and that there is nothing new left in the world?

Have you ever been fed up, pissed off, disgusted, irate, bitter, angry, disillusioned, frustrated, furious, aggravated, inconsolable, melancholy, abandoned, disheartened, cynical, jaded, and just plain worn the fuck out, but you didn’t even know exactly why?

Have you ever felt like you couldn’t pinpoint one specific thing that’s wrong because it’s all caused by a huge fucked up conglomeration of ALL things, but even then, you still couldn’t point to even twenty instances and say, “That’s why I feel this way” because there’s an angry miasma settling down over every single part of your life, your day, your night, your everything?

Welcome to my world.  You are not alone.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled life.

~Mer

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