A Quick Word of Thanks
And a Christmas Gift to Those Who Care
I was actually really surprised at the amount of support I received after Abaddon‘s release. A few people on Twitter actually purchased the paperback and lots of people have been interacting and retweeting my release post as well as the photo I took of my copy when it arrived. And many people complimented the cover art, which is so flattering to know that so many people not only liked it but went out of their way to say they liked it. As most know by now, I designed it myself so that’s doubly awesome to hear. And some of those who heard I designed it myself may not understand; I did the whole thing in Illustrator and Photoshop. While I am an author, I never made it my plan A for paying the bills. I majored in digital media in college and have been a professional web and graphic designer for 6 years. 😉
A couple of my Facebook friends even made posts about purchasing my book and two of my beta readers came through with wonderful and honest reviews. And I want to pause in my gratitude for just a moment to tell you the “big secret” to supporting your friends and family who are in a creative field and are trying to get recognition. Because for some reason people think the only way to support their artist friends is to buy their work when they may not have the money.
- Sure, buy it if you can. (However, when it comes to books, I’m a big advocate of only actually reading what you are interested in reading.)
- Interact with their social media posts. React, like, heart, comment, reply.
- Leave reviews of their work. Don’t lie, of course, but if there is something you liked about it, anything at all, SAY it and tell other people.
- For the love of all that is holy, SHARE their posts. This is THE most effective form of support and it also takes the least amount of time and effort but almost no one does it and I’ll never understand why. It is literally one click. Retweet. Reblog. SHARE.
So, anyway.
To all of you who have done any of the 4 points listed above, and anyone who is reading now, thank you. I want to give something back to you as a token of my gratitude and also to say merry Christmas from me to you and yours. Below is Chapter 1 of the second book in the Deviants series, Stoke. Enjoy!
Chapter 1: War
He channeled a long stinging draught down his gullet. He skillfully kept his throat open and the bourbon barely even touched the back of his tongue. It was a stifling hot day, which made his decision of whether to ask for his drink on the rocks or not quick and simple.
The cool air conditioning blew on the back of his neck and it rattled above him. He watched the bartender put away clean dishes until the bell at the door chimed. It chimed again when the door shut and light footsteps made their way toward the bar. He set down his glass slowly and his senses pricked the skin across his shoulders. His fingers tightened around his glass as the new patron took the stool to the right of him.
“What can I get ya?” the bartender asked.
“Blue Moon,” said the man.
He watched the bartender get out a brown bottle and pop the cap off. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the hand that reached out for it and pulled it across the counter. He listened to the first drink and the sigh that followed, clenching his jaw.
“Figured it was only a matter of time before I found you in here,” said the new patron, keeping his chin down.
The other kept his eyes forward. “I’m not hiding.”
“Yeah, I know.” Now the patron looked at him. “How you been, Cat.”
He internally scoffed at the question. Part of him wanted to punch him for asking him such a thing. Another part of him knew that how he had been doing was more than likely significantly better than how this guy had been.
He took another drink of his beer. “I’ve been coming here for a while now. I wanted to talk to you.”
William kept his eyes forward. “I don’t want to hear anything she has to say.”
“She didn’t send me. It’s just me; I wanted to talk to you. Can I do that? Will you let me?”
“She knows you’re here.” He took the last drink out of his glass.
“Of course she knows I’m here. But if she didn’t want me to be she would have stopped me.” He leaned closer. “Listen. I’m sorry about what happened.”
“You’re sorry,” he said, like he had just lied down in bed. “Why. Your people are the only ones who died.”
“I’m sorry that it happened. At all. It shouldn’t have.”
It shouldn’t have happened. Perhaps. He could be right about that. He signaled the bartender for another.
“This can stop any time. You have that power,” he said quietly.
William shook his head. He was definitely wrong about that.
“Why are you dragging this out?”
“What is it exactly that you believe I’m dragging out, Jaygo.” He gave a flick of a nod to the bartender for refilling his glass and picked it up to have another drink.
“She’s not going to stop. You know that.”
“Which is exactly why it’s pointless to try and ‘stop it’ as you so elegantly put it.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean; you want me to give her what she wants.” William dropped his gaze to the table.
Jaygo sighed and looked around for a moment before turning back to him. “Yes.”
He scoffed out loud this time.
“Just come back. I’m trying to do this peacefully—”
“Like you did in Kentucky.”
Jaygo shut up. Like, really shut up. But just for a moment. “—How that went down—was not my decision. Besides, you weren’t exactly very open-minded at the time either.” He picked up his bottle and held it in front of his lips. “You’re the one who started it.”
“I was sick; I had the flu. And I just wanted to sleep and then you guys show up like you care—”
“We do care, Cat! I swear to you we care, if we didn’t we wouldn’t be here right now.”
Now he finally looked at him, staring intensely and delving into his pupils. “We. Who’s we.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“Who else is here. Are they outside?”
“It’s just me, man, I meant—in Kentucky.” He took a drink and set down his bottle again. “It’s just me.”
“You said right now—”
“I represent all of us,” he said clearly, looking back into his eyes. His brown hair had been unevenly chopped off. William found this odd because he knew the clan to have someone who was actually not bad at giving haircuts.
“Who might that be. All of you who showed up in Kentucky?”
“All except for Blair.” Jaygo looked down to his bottle again.
William blinked.
“She died not long after.” Their eyes met again. “The flu.”
William stared back. The noise of the bar filtered into the space between them, but there was silence in his head where he remembered the cornfield blazing with flames into the starry sky above. And he recalled belligerently yanking her forward and spitefully kissing her mouth with his tainted, sickly lips. He knew for sure that she would have certainly become sick. He didn’t expect her to die, though. That explained why his hair looked so bad.
Even as he thought this, his eyes stayed the same. And he picked up his glass and had another casual sip, keeping his attention on the other. Jaygo’s expression told him he was irritated with him. It was the only expression he had come to decipher so well.
Jaygo went on when he did not reply with anything more than his discomforting gaze. “Believe what you want. But we miss you. And we want you back—if not only so she doesn’t hurt you anymore.”
He looked ahead. “She hasn’t.”
“You’re lying.”
William swept his hard gaze right back where it had just been after being challenged on his integrity.
“You remember Kentucky, I bet you haven’t forgotten Indiana.”
His jaw clenched again. He had until just now.
“And I know your retaliation wasn’t enough for you.”
He didn’t sound like he was challenging him. But William could think of no other way he would intend it. “Contrary to what you may think, you don’t know anything about me. Not anymore.”
He huffed and smiled into his beer bottle, showing his mildly yellow teeth. “You’re proving my point.”
William didn’t know what he meant by that. So, he just took the opportunity to have another swig.
“Cat, she’s going to start a war.”
“She already has.”
“She will not stop until she has you back with us. She’s obsessed, man; it’s all she thinks about. All she talks about.”
“That’s not my problem anymore.”
He leaned closer and his voice got harder. “It will be when she kills everyone you care about.”
“She won’t.”
“She won’t.” Jaygo nodded sarcastically. “Great. Yeah, how do you figure that.”
“I’ll cripple her.”
“And how exactly do you intend to do that.” He leaned on his elbow on the counter and his brow furrowed, pulling together some acne scars.
William tossed back the rest of his bourbon and turned in his seat to him, leaning toward him, too. “When you sat down, Jaygo, you asked me how I’ve been doing.” He made sure not to blink. “I want you to know without a shadow of a doubt that I am doing absolutely fantastic. And I have never felt better in my entire life. Because I’m out from under her thumb. And you had that chance.” He pointed a finger at him, his voice low, making Jaygo have to strain to hear him over the noise in the bar, “You had that chance when I begged you and the rest to come with me. But you didn’t want to. You wanted to stay bound, you wanted to stay blind. That was your decision. I’m free. Because I saw my situation, I hated it, and I changed it. And when this war you’re talking about really gets going? You remember you made your bed so you just fuckin’ lie in it.” He stood up and dug his wallet out of his back pocket.
“You’re not going to be feeling so fantastic when she takes everything away from you, Cat, don’t do this. Please listen to me.” Jaygo shook his head, though he was clearly trying not to draw any more attention to them.
“You know,” He pulled out some money, “I hope she never sends you in my way with the rest of her army.” He looked in his eyes and kept his voice steady. “Because I’ll kill you.” He dropped the bills on the counter and walked away with Jaygo’s eyes stuck on him. He set his shoulders and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he went for the door.
“Hey! You godda pay for your drinks, man.”
William stopped and turned to the bartender. Now everyone was looking at him, but he was looking at the counter next to Jaygo where he had just been sitting.
The money was gone.
Jaygo directed one eye over his shoulder at him with both his hands on his own drink.
William sighed hard through his nose. He approached the bar through the newly silent room. He stopped next to Jaygo who kept his eyes on the counter. With a solid stare to him, William pulled out his wallet again, took out more money, and handed it to the bartender who had been waiting impatiently. The bartender thanked him. He said nothing but kept watching Jaygo as he put his wallet back in his pocket.
He would not meet his eyes, looking like a scolded puppy under his gaze.
William turned back to the door and everyone watched him exit. Except for Jaygo.