Heckled.

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Heckled released late last night, a bit earlier than I had expected. But we got the cover design perfected, and then the editing went fast, and then Amazon went fast, and so, here we have it.

I am beyond excited.

This book means a lot to me, and I wanted to give you a little bit of insight as to how the idea for Heckled got started.

When the world lost Robin Williams, I cried. That week and the weeks shortly after, we saw a lot of things in the news and on social media referencing the end of the life of a man many of us had grown up knowing as Mork. There was such an outpouring of love and understanding by so many people.

There was also quite an outpouring of…something else.

Something mean-spirited and ugly. People who chose to view those who spend each day fighting mental illness as weak. Those who chose to be vocal about suicide or the contemplation of it being cowardly.

And it is so far from that. Imagine spending each day, knowing your brain is going to lie to you, and fight with you. Imagine going to bed every night, and knowing the next day will probably not be any better, but trying anyway. Imagine the strength and courage it would take to spend ten, twenty, thirty years, fighting a voice in your head that says you are not good enough, that says you never will be; a miserable, poisonous something that harasses you, day in and day out.

That isn’t weakness. That is STRENGTH.

I wanted to write something that would showcase the amount of inner strength it would take to live with such a thing, and how difficult it might be to try to explain it to others. So I wrote Heckled.

This will not be a book that everyone loves, and I’m okay with that. Honestly, I’m expecting mean reviews. But if it makes anyone stop, think, maybe start a conversation about a hard topic, then I’ll be satisfied I did what I set out to do.

If you read Heckled, please come back and tell me what you thought about it.

http://tinyurl.com/hdnrx4h

 

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KAPOW!

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I’ve got news for my bibliophile friends!

If you’ve followed me for any length of time, you know that I write more than just on this blog. In fact, I’ve published two novels, Just Hold On and Slither, which you should go and buy now, go ahead, I’ll wait. I got nothin’ to do but chase this wiggly baby, but it’s cool, I’ve got a teenager home on school break who can watch the naughty baby for a mo.

*whistles*

Got ’em? BEANS OF COOLNESS. Now you shall be rewarded with the exciting news, which you may have figured out on account of the picture above, because I know you’re clever like that, which is why you follow me…right?

Earlier this year, I was honored to be asked to join in on two anthologies. Seven stories of super chicks, written by seven super chicks, including me. Girl power at its finest! This is the first time I’ve written a story for an anthology, so I was excited to be a part of the KAPOW! duo of books.

Onomatopoeia! Of course KAPOW! is a great sound to shout whilst waving a finger or sword or bejeweled Scottish dagger at thine mortal enemy, or perhaps at Ren Faire, but for this particular set of anthologies, it has a deeper meaning:

Kick Ass Powerfully Original Women. KAPOW!

And they are, truly. Every super villain in the KAPOW! Bad Girls Edition book is a walking, talking, nightmare of an anti-heroine, and I think you’re going to love to hate them.

My bad girl, Copper, is a six-foot-seven redhead with a chip on her shoulder, and she’s out to make everyone pay. She’s also a member of the ancient super human race Dealanach Anail, and she breathes golden lightning (which creates an unfortunate and electrifying condition for anyone who makes her angry).

Come meet Copper and her cohorts in the KAPOW! Bad Girls Edition book that was recently released, and the cliffhangers will leave you with bated breath, waiting for the KAPOW! Good Girls Edition, which is coming soon.

KAPOW! Because why should super dudes get to have all the fun?

http://www.amazon.com/KAPOW-Bad-Girls-Carlyle-Labuschagne-ebook/dp/B0192FHFXI/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

Winter Wonderland of Books Giveaway!

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What are the best kinds of Christmas gifts?

The nice, rectangular sort that don’t even need a box! BOOKS!

Books are always the best gift. This giveaway is offering up print books, ebooks, Christmas gifts, and $200 PayPal cash as prizes!

Fifty authors have donated books, and ecopies of my novels Slither and Just Hold On are up for grabs.

It’s easy to enter and easy to share. Please do both!

https://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/2703c98f27/ 

My new release, Slither!!

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Look!!! I’m filled to overflowing with exclamation marks today! Woohoo!!!

My book baby, my little slithery, snake-y, serpentine-entity-worshipping book baby is live! Released! For sale! Out there! Go buy it! And read it! And even if you don’t like snakes, leave me a review because you like me…right? (God I hope so.)

Check this blurb:

We’re often told tales of the underworlds to feed the darkest corners of our nightmares. We tuck them away with the sunlight and laugh away the fear our minds created. But the daylight offers no relief for Zari. She’s hidden her waking nightmare as nothing more than a damaged past. The venom of her secrets consumes her, as well as those she cares for most. Emmett, the love of her life and the only one with a past dark enough to respect her space, becomes a pawn in the war against the demonic force which is her bloodright. Can Zari overpower those out to get her to feed on the innocent? Can she save Emmett from the evil of Slither?

Here are the places you can find Slither:

http://bit.ly/slitherkindle

http://bit.ly/SlitherKobo

http://bit.ly/SlitherPlay

 

Dear Anti-Vaxxer Mom

Dear Anti-Vaxxer Mom,

I saw you today. Your beautiful children were sitting in the backseat of your vehicle, and you stood there at the part of the road where the grass would have just begun, if it were summer but it isn’t summer, so the grass was dead.

Your nose was red in the cold, and your hair was swept up intermittently in the wind. Your eyes seemed wet, but perhaps it was simply the biting wind making them appear so. Your hands were shoved in the pockets of your long, black wool coat and your shoulders were hunched up near your ears in an effort to ward off the freezing rain.

It seems the weather is always terrible on the day of a funeral.

I wondered how you must have felt, and I wondered why you were even there.

I stood beneath the black tent the cemetery had set up. The tents have to be black, see, because any other color would indicate some level of hope or cheer.

And there is no hope here. There is no cheer today.

Beneath this small black tent, there is agonizing, raw pain.

There is a pastor shouting against the wind, words of love and peace, struggling to be heard.

There is a grandfather, openly weeping with great, racking sobs.

There is a mother clutching a fistful of dirt, trembling so hard she cannot release it over the lowered casket containing her little girl.

Her daughter had deep blue eyes and dark brown curls and a splatter of freckles across her nose.

Her baby girl was missing three front teeth, and liked dinosaurs.

She’d just outgrown her soccer cleats. She loved soccer.

Her daughter had a primary immunodeficiency, and couldn’t fight off the measles that broke out in her second-grade class last month.

I watched you turn away before the service was finished, and the red brake lights of your minivan were visible for a long time, even as the storm darkened the sky.

I wondered if you went home and hugged your children and cried, or if you flipped on the television and watched old Seinfeld reruns to settle your shaken soul.

I know there is nothing you can do to right the situation, because what is there? To say you are sorry? What a slap in the face of a grieving mother. Would you take a casserole to her home, to somehow feed her agony?

No. There is nothing you can do, not now.

It’s too late.

But I wanted to tell you, I really am glad your son survived his bout with measles and seems to have come through unscathed.

If he’d been vaccinated, perhaps he never would have had to experience it to begin with.

If he’d been vaccinated, perhaps that little girl would be home in her mother’s arms, instead of alone in the cold ground.

Perhaps.

I hear it’s supposed to storm again tomorrow.