You know, I didn’t understand when my parents insisted I watch (on our black & white tube TV) the first sledgehammer blows to the Berlin Wall(You know, I still remember what the guy looked like as he struck the blow??)

They felt it was so important. I was… 13? 14? Somewhere around there. It was a live broadcast, so it must have been on the 13th of June, 1990. Or maybe in 89? I can’t find a video record of it just now, but the images are clear to me. (Aspie memories are excellent. I rather wish they weren’t sometimes.)

If you’ve read through my blog, you’ll know I didn’t have an easy childhood. So, for both of my parents to come together at that point meant something. I paid attention. My mom, then, had been verging on being a non-functional alcoholic for a while. A long while.

Dad was just himself, cool, distant, unreachable. He’s a Vietnam vet btw. Not that it seems to matter. A whole… what do they call it, police action?? Was fought in the name of putting down fascism?

I understand now. I mean, aside from the whole oh-my-fucking-gods-it doesn’t-make-SENSE concept of the angry cheeto’s wall idea….

I get it.

On a level I didn’t then.

No walls. Never walls. It completely rejects the very basis of the ideal that was America. (‘Cause it sure as hell isn’t that anymore.) Do you know that America has now been rated as a flawed democracy?

I know it’s not the worst part, but… it’s a personal part that I’ll never understand. Both of those same people? Who insisted we three kids sit down and watch the first blow? Who talked to us about freedom? My parents? Voted for the angry orange.

I remember being made to watch this video, too.


Some thoughts…

Narrated version here

So, this article is making its way around writer twitter.

I have thoughts about it.

Politics on your author website

I disagree with everything in me. I don’t want people who hold the diametric opposite of my beliefs reading my words. If my belief that diversity is a strength, that inclusivity is beautiful and that love is love drive people away from my writing? Good. My words aren’t for them. In this world, I’m political just by drawing breath, my brand IS me, and what people are buying when they buy my books is ME. My experience, my passion for my beliefs, if it drives agents away? Fine, I wouldn’t be able to work with them anyway. My readers love my words, and that’s who the story is for. Them, and me.

If people can’t see past their own prejudices enough to enjoy the story as I’ve written it, then that’s their loss, not mine. If people can’t accept that authors are people with their own opinions and thoughts and gasp, political leanings as well, also their loss.

I don’t want to be a successful author badly enough to sacrifice who I am.

I’m not sure anyone should want that, it’s part of what makes bad stories. Lack of passion and willingness to commit to learning.


What did I do THIS time?

So, yeah… I tweeted about it here…

but I just don’t get what I did. I know we weren’t ‘friends’, not really. We don’t even live on the same continent.

But… they sent me their book to review (lots of people do, I review and blog… so I get requests a lot) and I’m actually reading the book now (I have 5 I’m reading… I read insanely fast) and… we’ve been interacting, on an almost daily basis for a few months now.

So what did I do, within the past 7 days, that made you drop me (unfollow) from twitter?

I know I’m probably weird that these things bother me so much. Think of it like a puzzle piece (I cringe at using that analogy, but it’s fitting) I do not understand social interaction in the gut-deep way most neurotypical people do. I never have.

I had to have someone tell me how to make appropriate eye contact and I had to learn how to do it by habit. Even as a grown woman, I’m still incredibly uncomfy with meeting anyone’s eyes.

I had to learn through trial and error when my listeners are about to turn into glassy-eyed dead fish impersonators because I’m boring them to death with the level of knowledge on any one of a number of topics running around in my head.

Social interaction, to me, is this huge tapestry of tiny stitches, each successful interaction I have is a smoothly placed satin-stitch, each failed one is a badly knotted tangle of UGH.

I don’t like the knotted ones, so I try to figure out how not to do that (whatever the ‘that’ is) again.

I’ve gotten better at it over the years, and yes, on twitter it’s very easy to assume a lot about what another is thinking/feeling/saying. It’s a limited platform.

For the average unfollow I don’t worry about it (odds on that I won’t even notice) and half of the people I don’t recognize their names. I don’t auto-follow back, it’s all about interaction for me. If I’m interested in getting to ‘know’ you, I’ll follow, or I’ll follow someone who is interacting with me… it’s pretty simple (in my head anyway).

It’s sort of the ebb and flow of the tide of twitter, so to speak. I get a lot of follows/unfollows each week. Most don’t bother me.

I admit, this week I was a little surprised at how quickly the numbers dropped after I critiqued the use of pain in CARVE THE MARK. I ‘lost’ something like 30+ followers on the day I dared to critique the author’s interview and the blurbs I saw other people post from the book itself.

I guess I’m not allowed to critique a big name author?

Look. I don’t care who you are or how big your ego is. If I see you doing something harmful, I’m going to call you on it. I hope to hell someone calls me on it if *I* do something harmful.

Do I like being called out? Hell no, it sucks (especially for an aspie) but I’d MUCH rather get a public call out and harsh education lesson than I would EVER hurt someone else unintentionally.

Yet… when that particular name popped up as an unfollow, it hurt. I just don’t get what I did, this time. So that knotted stitch will remain knotted, and I won’t learn how to not do whatever knotted it in the first place.

Which means I’ll do it again, all unwittingly, and unless/until someone actually tells me what I’ve done… I’ll never know.

Let me tell you, that not knowing? It’s absolute hell for an aspie, or maybe just this aspie?

Logic is holy to me, and people are innately illogical. I guess that’s my only take away. Fuck it, it’s three am here and I’m going to go to bed instead of reading this person’s book.




Review: MIRANDA AND CALIBAN by Jacqueline Carey

*I received a free digital ARC copy from Netgalley in return for an honest review.
Dark, Young Adult, Historical Fantasy
Available Feb 14th, 2017
Available for pre-order now.
I grinned like a maniac when my request to review this book was approved because it’s been on my must-read list since I first heard about it. I’m a die hard lover of Shakespeare and of Ms. Carey’s work, so to be able to read for review a retelling of The Tempest by one of my all time favorite authors made my day.
I stayed up ’til 4 am reading it, dropped my tablet on my face three times before finally admitting I couldn’t finish in one sitting.
Ms. Carey’s deep, lyrical style captures the relationship between young Miranda, her magus father, and the wild-boy Caliban. With elements of Tarzan, Beauty and the Beast and The Little Mermaid, the tale is intricate. Ms. Carey’s signature style of prose makes itself known and transports the reader to another world. A darker one where kids grow up under the aegis of power and vengeance.
In places, as the children learn one another, the story is joyful, in places it’s fearful and as they age into teens, in a time when a daughter’s duty is-by God’s will-her only righteous path… heartbreaking.
As usual with Ms. Carey’s books, I didn’t want the story to end.
When it did, my heart remained so sad. This isn’t a happily ever after type of tale, but it is beautiful, rich, dark and oh so very real.
I do hope there is more of Miranda & Caliban’s story to come. There would be room for it, in how the tale comes to a close… and I’m western enough that a sad–ending leaves me wanting.
Dare I say it? I’m thinking it… Miranda & Caliban could come to stand alongside some of my favorite tragic romances if the story continues. Considering that most of those romantic couples and moresomes are written by Ms. Carey herself, that’s not too huge of a shock. Lol, though nothing will ever top Phedre and Joscelin from Kushiel’s Legacy… these two could come close. If you like Shakespeare, Jacqueline Carey’s writing, dark fantasy with realistic twists… hie thee hence and pre-order the book.
Mild spoiler in the form of a trigger warning.
I do have some concern in that the word savage is used in regards to a dark haired, darker skinned individual, and I would have been much happier if Caliban had been blond and blue eyed with that terminology used for him. On a scale of heeby-jeebies caused by the use of the word, mine are low because there aren’t any stereotypical cultural references. He’s referred to as savage and wild-boy, which he is, in the Tarzan/Julie of the wolves sense. I can’t judge it perfectly as being stereotypical or not. I may not be experienced enough to do so, but I’d be derelict in providing an honest review if I didn’t mention that the use of that word for Caliban did give me pause.

Readability: 5/5 stars: Readability… lol, tablet dropping on face at 4 am level of OMG I have to finish it.

Arcs: 4/5 stars: It’s harder for me to judge this one, meaning it’s getting a bit lower score. If it’s JUST this tale, and no other, if we never find out what happens after the end, the ARCs are truncated. If there is more of the story to come, as I’m dearly praying there will be, then it’s just the beginning of the series. The characters did grow from childhood to adolescence, they learned the basics of who they are and what they will do, and not do, so in that sense, the ARCs are complete enough. It’s the romantic ARC which is truncated, or maybe I’m just not happy with that part of it. (I’m a die hard romantic, I like a HEA.)

Writing Craft: 5/5 stars: My editor brain slept through the book except for two sentences which used filter words (feel… when to describe what the character was feeling would’ve been stronger). It wasn’t enough to drag me out of the story even a little.

Would I buy it for a friend?

I’d buy it for a friend who loves JC, or dark YA fantasy or dark fantasy in general.

Buy the Book!





*I received an ARC of SOME KIND OF MAGIC in return for an honest review.


And to be honest, I squeaked like a happy kid when my review request was approved. Seriously, through the greatness of my writer friends on writer-twitter, I’ve heard about this book for months and wanted, desperately to read it.

I’m so glad I did!

In this sparkling debut novel, Mary Ann Marlowe introduces a hapless scientist who’s swept off her feet by a rock star—but is it love or just a chemical reaction?…

Biochemist Eden Sinclair has no idea that the scent she spritzed on herself before leaving the lab is designed to enhance pheromones. Or that the cute, grungy-looking guy she meets at a gig that evening is Adam Copeland. As in the Adam Copeland international rock god and object of lust for a million women. Make that a million and one. By the time she learns the truth, she s already spent the (amazing, incredible) night in his bed

Suddenly Eden, who’s more accustomed to being set up on disastrous dates by her mom, is going out with a gorgeous celebrity who loves how down-to-earth and honest she is. But for once, Eden isn’t being honest. She can’t bear to reveal that this overpowering attraction could be nothing more than seduction by science. And the only way to know how Adam truly feels is to ditch the perfume—and risk being ditched in turn

Smart, witty, and sexy, Some Kind of Magic is an irresistibly engaging look at modern relationships why we fall, how we connect, and the courage it takes to trust in something as mysterious and unpredictable as love.

Now, you all know that I AM a scientist, in real life I’m a forensic chemist/bioanthropologist, so I was a little leery that the science wouldn’t stand up, but it didn’t make me cringe once. Yay!

The writing is crisp and clean and the sex steamy enough to keep even ME happy. You can read more of my review on my review page with my scores, but here is the meat of it.


A retelling of Love Potion No9? Sign me up!

On top of one of my favorite movies of ever being retold in prose, with a few twists, I deeply enjoyed the well-rounded, fleshed-out and very real characters of this book.

It’s hard, sometimes, as an author, to do that. It takes a lot of work behind the scenes that the reader never sees and I’m thrilled that Ms. Marlowe did it because it made me adore her characters.

I’m not a sucker for ‘rock star romance’ I mean it’s not really my thing because I don’t have a fantasy of sleeping with my favorite rock star (lol, not even Levine, who I find soooo sexy) but I loved the MC Adam in this book, his trials and issues made him well rounded and believable. I am a scientist, and the FMC Eden was represented quite well in all aspects of that, including her list of things for a mate! (hah, so true to form there, at least for me). The way she thinks makes her a highly empathetic character for me.

Ms. Marlowe’s voice leaps up off the page and grabs you by the throat, refusing to let you go until you finish the book and the sex… oh my… I don’t make any bones about loving graphic, open door sex scenes that melt my panties, and my desires (ahem) were met perfectly in this book. The sex didn’t fall into the trap of being gratuitous either, there was enough story to carry it.

The story is smart (yay for smart writing!) and well written, with few editorial issues and the pace is page turning. It even had a satisfying emotional feel to it, which not every book can do for me.

Did I forget to mention it’s funny, too? It is. One-liners, sly jokes and laugh-out-loud humor kept me smiling throughout. I needed that laughter today, and for that reason alone the book would have garnered five stars. The REST is just as good though. Highly worth reading.

I look forward to reading anything else Ms. Marlowe writes.

You can pre-order a copy of SOME KIND OF MAGIC

Review page can be found here:

REVIEW of SOME KIND OF MAGIC (the review is the same as the above, only difference on that page is the scoring)


Pain and Carve the Mark

Narrated version here.

Past couple of days have been pretty high pain days for me. Weather can really affect my pain levels, and the temperature has gone from snow, to icy freezing rain to almost spring-like temperatures accompanied by rain, and back down to cold enough to freeze, in the matter of hours or the course of a day.

I hurt.

I don’t use prescription pain meds, so that means I tend to have to lay on the couch or in bed when I’m not being mom and play minecraft or read or watch movies a lot. Sounds fun, hunh? It’s not. I’d much rather be out running, or going to the gym, or playing with my kids or cleaning my house (thank goodness I did that last week, cause I can’t move without a ton of pain right now) or doing ANYTHING except coping with this pain. Fibromyalgia pain has been likened to stage 4 cancer pain, and having given unmedicated birth twice, I can guarantee fibro pain on flare days is worse than unmedicated childbirth.

It’s nigh impossible to edit or write when I’m in this much pain, I can do it, but it takes more strength than I like to admit to stick to regular activities. It’s kinda hard to see when you need to wipe tears away just to look at your screen.

So, to read this interview Veronica Roth’s Carve the Mark during a high pain episode, and know, deep in my soul that because of her past success SO many people will buy and read that book, and form an opinion similar to Roth’s own because of her words, that chronic pain can, perhaps, be a gift… (even the interviewer made that conclusion).

Dear Gods.

I am really close to speechless with this, to be honest. It’s so evident that this book isn’t own voices, and while I will not ever say every issue should only be written by own voices folks, I do say, repeatedly, authors need to do their due diligence. They need to research and ask questions and more importantly LISTEN to the answer.

My heart aches at the massive misunderstanding of chronic pain this interview shows. The book can only show the same. It’s not a gift, it’s never a gift, and I don’t know of a single person with chronic pain that would ever wish it on another person (most of the time).

This is inspiration porn in the worst sort of way. I dread thinking of what the kids with chronic pain reading this book are going to take away from it.

…and when I’m being honest, which I do try to be, it burns me that this person who has such a backasswards view of chronic pain, who obviously didn’t do her research not only has a book deal that poorly represents something I live with every second of every day, she has a following who are going to go out and buy the book in droves, when I can’t get a book deal. There will likely be a movie deal down the road for this tragedy as well.

Yeah, that.

No. I won’t read the book, I don’t need to to know the representation is terrible. I won’t go twitter drag that author either, even though a small part of me would like to. I’ve spoken my piece and shared my educated opinion on it. That’s got to be enough because I won’t be a bully.

I’m going to go write my own works that feature ownvoices chronic pain sufferers, and I will go listen to my sources about issues that don’t touch me deeply, so that I can do MY due diligence and get it right. I will also buy, read and review a few own voices CP stories.

It’s all I can do, small fish that I am. Big fish like Roth… damn. Just know that her view of chronic pain is wrong. So, so wrong.

I have a Patreon, if you want to help support someone who actually does suffer from chronic pain, and who does have characters with chronic pain or ASD in my stories.

You know, instead of going out and buying Roth’s book. I don’t even want to read the divergent series now, just because of this.

Shout out to an amazing person, my friend, Erin Jeffreys Hodges who I respect so much.

HOOKED ON TROUBLE by Kelly Siskind


This is a great read. Which I’ve come to expect from Kelly Siskind. I’m sad to finish the series, but oh, what a finish it was.

HOOKED ON TROUBLE by Kelly Siskind (January 10, 2017; Forever Yours eBook; $3.99; Over the Top Book 3)


Reality bites.  Hard.

The last time Raven did “real” was sixteen months ago, when she spent one unforgettable night with the tattooed, impossible sexy Nico, and then he disappeared the next day.  Since then, she’s kept her guard up and her feelings to herself.  She doesn’t have time for relationship drama when she’s busy searching for her long lost sister.

Nico hasn’t stopped thinking about Raven—her sultry curves, inked skin, or the fact that he ditched her after their night together.  Now that they’re living in the same city, he knows this is his chance to make things right.  What better way to prove to Raven he’s for real than helping her find her sister?  But when the lines between right and wrong start to blur, putting his job on the line, Nico has to decide if the risk is worth the ultimate reward.

Buy the Book!

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2h5Q0CS

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2hCb5Ft

Kobo: http://bit.ly/2h5HDqY

iBooks: http://apple.co/2hpQoz6

Google: http://bit.ly/2hpVXgO

About the Author:

Siskind Kelly.jpg

A small-town girl at heart, Kelly Siskind moved from the city to open a cheese shop with her husband in Northern Ontario, Canada.  When she’s not neck deep in cheese or out hiking, you can find her, notepad in hand, scribbling down one of the many plot bunnies bouncing around in her head.

She laughs at her own jokes and has been known to eat her feelings—Gummy Bears heal all.  She’s also an incurable romantic, devouring romance novels into the wee hours of the morning.

Social Media Links:



Add Hooked on Trouble to your shelf on Goodreads: http://bit.ly/2hLwMWX


Enter to win 1 of 15 free ebook downloads of Hooked on Trouble!




Excerpt (300-500 words)

His large hand presses against my knee under the table. “Can we talk?”

Jesus, his touch. It’s the first time I’ve felt the weight of his palm on me since Aspen. It’s heavy. Huge. Callused. Instinctually I shift forward, my body no longer mine to command. He doesn’t move his hand. Just his thumb. It presses harder, dragging downward. I grip my armrests to keep from sliding to the floor. He stares at me, waiting for my answer.

Yes. No. Maybe. I choose silence.

The way our lives are entrenched with our friends, I’ll have to spend time with him, and I can’t keep pretending I can block him out. Moving here was about starting fresh, which means letting go of this grudge. But talking about Aspen could stir up more feelings, the same way the experience spurred my need to find Rose. If we talk about our time in the hot tub, it could unhinge me further.

Our waiter arrives to take our order, and Nico’s thumb moves again, a tiny brush, his skin against mine, sending a pulse between my thighs. My sanity plummets. I shout, “Chicken,” like a lunatic as I push away from the table.

Nico’s hand slides from my knee, but his eyes don’t waver. I feel his gaze on my back as I hurry to the bathroom. The second I get inside, I close the door and lean against it, thankful it’s not a public room with several stalls. I take a few deep breaths.

How can that bit of contact turn me inside out? The smallest touch?

Memories of his other touches flip through my mind, snippets of skin and ink, flashes of ecstasy.

My back arching.

His fingers exploring.

The curve of his inked shoulder.

His huge hands.

The sheer size of him.

We might not have had sex, and the details may be fuzzy, but there’s no doubt it was the hottest night I’ve ever had. What isn’t fuzzy is the time I spent with him in the hot tub prior, and how he took advantage of my vulnerability.

Goddamn Nico. And Goddamn Aspen.


MY review can be found here on this site, or at Goodreads or Amazon.