S.M. Butler's Blog, page 12

Thanksgiving went well. The kids and I spent the day at my parents’ house. My mom cooked and she did awesome, as usual. There was pie afterward and I ate a lot of it.

I finished the zero draft of HER LAST KILL and it’s safe to say, it’s a mess. I started the story one way, and (as typical of me) it ended another way. So there’s going to be a lot of figuring out what needs to stay and what needs to go and rewriting large sections of the book before it is anywhere near ready to even see an editor, let alone publish. I guess it’s good that my deadline for it is still a few months away.

I recorded a podcast for Story Nerd and scheduled it for Monday. I need to do a couple more and build a little bit of a cushion for those. I’m having fun with it. It’s like this blog, except in audio and I try to actually stay on one topic. LOL.

Also, I finally got my printer working without the streaks or clogged printheads, so now I’m going to get to play with my Silhouette Cameo. You know what that means? I get to make stickers. I have plans for Lucky Thirteen stickers, writer stickers, RSF stickers, planner stickers… so many stickers. It’s going to be amazing. With a working printer, it means I can work on my planner prototype too. I’ve been putting off finishing the design because there was no way to print and see how it was working out.

So, yay!

But for now, I’m working on a proposal for a new project to be written mid-2019. It’s turning out pretty well, but there’s a lot of work to be done on it still.

The Great Newsletter Overhaul of 2018 is also going well. It scares the heck out of me to delete a whole bunch of people, but these people aren’t actually reading my emails anyway and I don’t want to keep sending them to folks that don’t want them anymore. Also, I’m writing new freebies for the list, which I’ll make available soon to the list itself. They won’t be full-length books, but they’ll be complete stories and more in line with what I write now.

Anyway, so I went off track there again… Let’s circle it back. Thanksgiving was awesome. Now I’m so ready to concentrate on Christmas. I’ve been watching Hallmark movies and having so much fun getting ready for the holiday season.

So, how was your Thanksgiving, if you celebrate it, and if you celebrate Christmas, what do you have planned for it? My Christmas is probably going to look a lot like my Thanksgiving did.

I always wanted a full house for Thanksgiving. I didn’t care who came as long as people came.

But I really suck at cooking.

Which kind of means that people don’t really like coming over to eat bad food. I mean, why would they? I certainly wouldn’t.

My mom is nothing like that. She’s an amazing cook. Actually, she’s pretty much amazing at whatever she does. But cooking is a passion for her. So, we usually do Thanksgiving with her and my dad.

I’m looking forward to the pecan pie. She always makes it, then she makes chocolate pie for one of my kids, and pumpkin pie for the other. And if she’s feeling generous, she makes a cheesecake for my dad. It’s a lot of desserts for five people, I know. We handle it just fine.

Maybe someday, I’ll learn how to not burn or destroy all the food that I attempt to cook. Maybe I’ll improve so I can have that full house I was always wanting. Or maybe I’m not meant to cook Thanksgiving and I’ll just get it catered…

What do you have planned for the day?

I discovered today that my author email wasn’t set up right in my client, so as a result, I haven’t been getting emails from folks for the last… oh… three months.

Yeah.

I’m a little frustrated with it, because yes, I set it up right before, and it was fine and working. But something changed somewhere along the way, and it stopped receiving altogether. So, I happened to notice the problem today, fixed it, and it downloaded hundreds of messages I’ve received since SEPTEMBER.

SEPTEMBER, people.

So… if you were wondering why I flat out ignored your email in the last three months? It’s because I didn’t see it. I’m super sad about this, but I promise to be better in the future, you know, now that I’m receiving emails again.

Ugh. I feel like I need a drink after this.

So I thought you guys might enjoy reading the first scene in HIS LAST BREATH. I got a lot of emails about Chris and if he was going to find his HEA after Addison’s and Murphy’s story, and it took me almost two years to write the damn thing. Not to mention six false starts because the story wouldn’t gel just right.

Chris deserved the best I could give him, though, so here he is. Your first look at HIS LAST BREATH, releasing December 3rd, 2018. For those counting down, that’s thirteen days from now…

The gentle sway of the train served just enough movement to keep Christopher Hardy from giving into the darkness that waited as his life’s blood coated the floor of the compartment. Dark blooms appeared against his vision. Fear and worry that he’d failed his sister and that she was going to die soon overwhelmed his fading mind. His body was numb when his best friend knelt over him, alarm in his icy blues that promised the Grim Reaper was coming for Chris soon.

The silence that followed after his sister and his best friend been taken away stretched over him, broken only by the click-clack of the train. Time had no meaning as he waited for death. All he could remember was the pain in his chest and the worry in his soul.

Somehow he’d survive.

He still wasn’t sure how.

Waking up in the hospital after he’d been shot and almost killed on that train was…. Well, it had a lasting influence. A week after that moment, he was barely alive. They said it was too soon to see if he’d have full use of his extremities again since he’d been bleeding out for so long. Too soon to see if his life as he knew it was over.

“Do we have a deal, Mr. Hardy?”

Chris focused on the man before him, taking in the black-rimmed glasses that had seen better days, and the faded, hole-ridden jeans that looked like he’d wiped out on the skateboard a few too many times. His expression wasn’t grim. He’d asked the question like they were having coffee instead of deciding life or death.

“I don’t think I can make that decision,” Chris replied, hating how hoarse and raspy his voice sounded. He’d trained his entire life to be strong and capable. To be a Navy SEAL. To serve his country. To be a hero. Without that, what was he but a guy with a broken body? “My family is all I have left.”

The man—Nathan Hawk, he called himself—was definitely a cocky son of a bitch. The way he’d entered the room, his head high, his shoulders back and body tall… The man knew what he wanted and how to get it. Every time his dark eyes focused on him, such intense power within them… A lesser man would have cowered under the sheets.

“Your outlook isn’t good otherwise,” Nathan said, flipping through Chris’s chart. “There’s a lot of damage to your internal systems, and maybe your spinal cord. Looks like they’re worried about future mobility in your extremities as well.” He focused on me. “Could you really live in a wheelchair, Mr. Hardy? Walk with a cane? No more runs down the beach, no more missions, no more saving the world.”

Nathan’s dark fingers turned the pages on Chris’s medical chart. He’d explained the procedure already, the one that might save him. He definitely talked as if he knew what he was doing. But Chris didn’t trust him. He hadn’t asked for money, but Chris was sure a miracle treatment had to come with a price tag.

“I could still pull through on my own,” Chris said. According to the doctors, Chris wasn’t out of the woods yet, but it wasn’t impossible that he could do it.

“It’s unlikely you’ll survive another session under the knife.” Nathan waved the chart before hanging it back up at the end of the bed. “If you don’t go through another surgery, I think you’d live. But you’ll never be one hundred percent again. Shit, you might not even be fifty.” He came around the bed and leaned over Chris, those intense eyes boring into him. “And we both know that mere survival isn’t enough for someone like you.” He paused, searching Chris’s face. “Is it?”

Chris glared at the mother fucker then glanced where the machinery beeped beside him, monitored his vitals, and the IV dripped what was definitely dulling the pain he should have been feeling. Surviving two shots to the chest at close range and not bleeding out before help arrived on a moving train was a damn miracle. By every account, Chris should have been dead. But if this man had his way, he still would be, to everyone that mattered to him.

“Well?” The man asked.

“No, it’s not,” Chris admitted. Surviving was only the first step.

“It’ll be months before you’ll be able to do physical therapy. Maybe even longer if the damage to your nervous system isn’t reversible.” Nathan stood up straight and crossed his arms. “It’s a fairly simple procedure, in three phases. It’s not the most pleasant. But it will cut your recovery time to a quarter of what it is now. You’ll not only survive, but you’ll thrive.” He studied Chris carefully. “But I don’t think the procedure is what you’re having difficulty with.”

The stipulation. Yeah, that was exactly where the problem was. No contact with family or friends. No SEALs. No Addison. No Mom or Dad. Chris Hardy would die, and be reborn in secret.

But Chris would be alive. He’d have purpose again. Would he have that if he took his chances here? Or would he spent the rest of his life on disability and wonder if he’d made the right choice?

“Obviously, this is your decision, and it’s not an easy one.” Nathan’s phone vibrated from inside his pocket. He glanced at it for a second and shoved it back into his jacket pocket. Nathan let out a slow breath and stood up. “I have another appointment I cannot miss. Think about it, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“The procedure must be done within the next forty-eight hours for maximum effectiveness. After that, it’ll be iffy if it takes or not.”

Or whether he survived it or not. “Got it.”

“I’ll come by tomorrow and check in.” Chris nodded, though he wasn’t really processing exactly what Nathan was saying. At the moment, feeling or thinking was sort of a gray zone. The medication they were pumping into him dulled everything, and his head felt a little like a Bobblehead.

Pretty soon though, those meds would be gone, and their effect would wear off. He’d be left with no career, stuck in his tiny apartment with a home care nurse because he wasn’t able to walk to the bathroom alone. Or worse, he’d have to move back home with Mom and Dad. He loved his parents, but Mom was the type to overreact to stupid shit. He’d never have a moment to himself again. They were getting older. They needed to not have to take care of him in their retirement.

Chris must have dozed off after the man left because the next sound he heard was his best friend Eamon Murphy saying his name. He forced his eyes open, ignoring just how well they tried to stick shut and tried to focus on Murphy’s face beside him. “Hey.” God, his voice still sounded like his grandfather’s.

“How ya doing?” Murphy asked, his icy blue eyes studying him.

Anger came unbidden inside him, born from the soft pity in Murphy’s voice. He knew Chris was broken. Murphy knew he might never be whole again. Beside him, the beeping indicating his heartbeat increased, just a little, enough to make him realize what he was doing. He blew out a breath, trying not to inhale deeper than he needed to. Even with the painkillers, the pain was still there, reminding him that even though he lived, he wasn’t the same.

“I got shot. Shit hurts a lot.” He forced a grin he didn’t feel. The conversation with Nathan seemed like a dream. Like it wasn’t real. Maybe it wasn’t and it was just the effects of the painkillers he was on.

But seeing Murphy’s pity for him, Chris thought about what Nathan had said. If he did it, he’d be able to walk, run, shoot a gun. Everything he’d trained for all his life to do. But there was also uncertainty in Murphy’s expression and Chris knew why. He’d been almost killed trying to save his twin sister, Addison. Because Murphy loved his sister. His sacrifice spoke volumes for the kind of man he was… Chris wasn’t sure he was on the same level as his friend anymore. “You did good, Eamon. Thank you.”

Murphy blinked in surprise. Chris wasn’t sure why he said it out loud. The two of them usually didn’t engage in sentiment. But they were SEALs, or at least one of them was. Honestly, Chris’s life might end the next day—one way or another—so he was inclined to say whatever the fuck he wanted to say. “You promised me she’d be safe, and you kept that promise.”

Chris almost kept going, almost told Murphy about Nathan, about the offer he’d made, but he already knew what Murphy would say. He’d tell him he was looking for an easy out. And maybe he was. But Murphy couldn’t understand what it was like, facing a lifetime of being disabled and useless. He wasn’t in the same position. He would heal, and be whole again. His life would continue. Chris wasn’t just in pieces. He was broken.

A deliberate feminine cough broke the uneasy silence between us. Addison stood in the doorway, her arms crossed. She looked a little banged up but healthy. Nothing broken, looked like. Her eyes landed on Murphy before anything else. “Hey there.”

“Hi, beautiful,” Murphy croaked out. His eyes lit up at the sight of her. Chris glanced between the whole of them. That moment right there, they probably didn’t even know he was there. He’d known Murphy had harbored feelings for his sister a long time ago. He’d even known about Addison’s stupid little teenage crush on him. But he’d thought they’d gotten over it, moved on. Then Alex Giroux happened and everything had changed.

They’d found each other, found love in the other. He was happy for them, but jealousy crept in like black oil. Not because they were in love, but because they had each other and Chris would be left alone and broken.

“Awkward…” he whispered. “That’s still my sister you’re ogling, man…”

If he could have left the room, he would have. But he was stuck there, in pain, and drugged out of his head. He had protected his baby sister all his life, even though she wasn’t actually his baby sister. They were only fifteen minutes apart. But it felt like she was his baby sister. But she didn’t need a protector anymore, and he wasn’t in any shape to protect an ant, let alone his sister. Jean Giroux’s bullets had imprisoned Chris in just the right nightmare.

Addison grinned as she stepped into the room. Exhaustion radiated out from her, each step slow and sluggish. She needed a good shower to rinse away the layer of dust and the dried blood that coated her body and clothes. Whatever had happened after he’d been shot had been huge. And no one had told him much more than she and Murphy had survived it. Guilt ransacked him, pulsing out from the holes in his chest. He hadn’t been able to be there for her when she’d needed him more. “You two. What am I going to do with the both of you?”

It was too much. His heart hurt to see the pain on her face, the worry etched in her forehead. Chris scowled, trying to mask the pain that kept time with his heart and decided to break the tension. “Look, I’m still a little weirded out by my best friend making out with my little sister.”

She rolled her eyes, just like he knew she would. “We’re twins. It’s a fifteen-minute difference.”

“Different birthdays,” Murphy shrugged. Chris chuckled, but it hurt, so he winced instead. Her eyes narrowed at them, but Murphy just grinned. Of everything, he was glad this was what was saved. His sister and his best friend, safe and happy. She had Murphy to take care of her now.

The thing was… Chris liked thinking of her as his little sister. He knew she hated it, but it gave him a purpose in a weird way. He was her big brother. Except now he couldn’t fill that role. Now he was just a broken shell.

“You guys nearly died on me.” Addison’s anger and sadness swirled around the room. Chris had expected tears when they finally had this conversation, but there were none. Somewhere along the way, his little sister had grown from a spoiled art student into this incredibly fearless woman that his best friend was in love with. A woman of courage and bravery. A woman… who didn’t need her twin brother anymore. “Don’t you dare do that to me again.”

Guilt spiked inside Chris’s chest because if he took Nathan’s offer, she’d be experiencing his loss all over again. No contact with family ever again. They would think he died. How would he die in their eyes? In surgery? An accident? Could he do it just to be whole again?

Murphy’s eyes met his, speaking volumes about how he felt about Addison. Chris would have shrugged if it didn’t hurt like a bitch.

“You guys can’t leave me alone. I need you. Both of you.” Addison looked down at her fingers, picking at her fingernails in that nervous manner she had.

Chris’s chest ached and it wasn’t because it had a couple extra holes in it. Choosing a new life meant he would never see her or Murphy again. She thought she needed him, but it wasn’t true. She needed the old Chris, the one who wasn’t practically dead already. And now she had Murphy, who he knew would always watch out for her. Who would give his life for her.

The corpsman knocked on the door. “Sorry to interrupt. Just need to check vitals and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Chris nodded, but not before he saw Addison whip around and leave.

“Damn it,” Murphy grunted, his voice laced with pain.”Addison!”

That’s when Chris realized it for real. Addison didn’t really need her brother anymore. She only thought she did. She needed Murphy.

“Go,” he told him. “It’s okay. Take care of her.” Murphy looked hard at Chris like he had something else he wanted to say, but instead, he wheeled himself out the door.

Which was what Chris wanted. He needed them to support each other so he didn’t have to worry.

The corpsman was quiet as he checked Chris’s blood pressure and for that, he was glad. He didn’t want to talk.

Chris stared up at the ceiling. He was already alone. A window let in the sunlight like a warm glow upsetting the incoming cold and darkness. But it didn’t quite reach his bed.

Taking Nathan’s offer wouldn’t change much at this point. He wasn’t needed, he wasn’t able to do the job he loved. He had an opportunity to continue the work he’d started as a SEAL. Maybe it wouldn’t be for the SEALs, but he could still make a difference in the world, and that was all he’d ever wanted.

He could be whole again.

Did you guys know that in three weeks (THREE WEEKS, PEOPLE!), His Last breath will be out in the world. Like people are gonna be able to read it and shit. Yes, I’m having a moment. I suppose it’s because this is the first book I’ve released in two years and naturally, I’m a little nervous. But the truth is I’m always nervous for releases.  It just seems to be EXTRA this time around.

That being said, I’ve been trying to put it out of my mind. I still have three weeks to freak out about the book, so no sense in doing it all in one day, right? Let’s spread that shit out a little.

I’ve been working on the second book. It’s been giving me fits. I’m at the middle, which I always call the Swampy Middle, because it’s where I really do realize what the story is, and a lot of times, it’s a little different than my original vision. Which often means, I need to go back and fix the beginning to match the end. I’ve also been limiting my work on it. It’s my NaNoWriMo project, so I’ve been averaging about 2,000 words a day on it and then I put it away and I get to work on other stuff.

Like Section Five, which I’m thinking it may be ready for serialization by Christmas. It was mostly done, except for that Swampy Middle part again. LOL. It seems no matter what I try, I can’t seem to get away with not having a middle to the book. Go figure.

Which means once the second installment goes live, I’ll be taking the first installment down to compile together and send out for edits and clean up before releasing that book out into the world.

On the home front, it’s frigging cold here. This is Texas, which means we don’t get a lot of severe cold weather. We get tornados, yes. We get thunderstorms and potential flooding, yes. But cold? It’s usually about two days in February, the state shuts down, and the kids get a snow day. But today? It’s freezing, I’m wearing layers INDOORS, and my heater has been running constantly for hours.

I’m thinking I may order groceries and get them delivered rather than actually leave the house. I have very little food right now, but I’m really not feeling the cold. I live where I live for a reason. I don’t care for winter. At all.

To all those that came before, and all those that will come after, thank you for your service.

It’s been a while since I’ve done a complete update. I used to do these complete with my goals for the week and stuff, and I kinda fell off the wagon with them. But I’d like to try doing them again and see how it goes. It’s always good to have something to hold me accountable.

Reapers series – So we have just a few short weeks before HIS LAST BREATH is out in the world. I’m super nervous, and while that happens with every release, I think I’m more nervous this time because it’s my first release in two years. So I’m pretty much sitting on my hands hoping it doesn’t suck. I mean, beta readers have seen it, editors have seen it, so it’s not like it hasn’t had eyes on it. It’s still nerve-wracking, and I don’t think that will ever stop. Pre-orders are up for both books, and I’m currently working my way through writing the zero draft of #2.

Lucky Thirteen #6 – Yes, I’m going to continue these books eventually. Coming off a two-year writing/publishing hiatus, I decided that instead of picking up where I left off, it would be healthier for me to start something new and then come back to write the next book in this series. As such, I haven’t given the next couple much thought, but I’ll get there.

Texas Highlanders Hockey – To be honest, I’d pretty much given up on this series. I loved the characters, I loved writing them, and it let me feed my inner sex fiend. I won’t say I won’t ever write on this series again, because I do want to write some of the other team members. We’ll see how it goes.

Section Five – I’m a bad serial poster. I’m working through the next section of the serial, but it’s kind of been thrown to the side while I’m working on the next Reapers book. I’m actually thinking of trashing the words that I’ve got on the second installment and doing a rewrite on it, but that may be rash of me at the moment. So, for now, I’ve let it sit and then I’ll go back and reread in a few days and see what I need to do with it.

My priority goal is to finish the zero draft of Her Last Kill (Reapers #2) by the end of November. I’m actually in good shape to do that, provided the last couple weeks of the month don’t end up being overwhelming with the busy.

I have Readers ‘n Ritas this weekend, which is my last event of the year. I’ll probably buy a ticket for next year’s RnR on Sunday, too. So that and the Valentine’s signing at the library are pretty much the staples on events next year.

I’d also like to start looking at revisions and edits for the Sooper Seekrit Projekt. I haven’t talked about this project at all because I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do with it yet. The zero draft is done, and it’s a big girl at 90,000 words, but I’m thinking about shopping it around at publishers. We’ll see. For now, it’s hanging out on my computer until I’m ready to deal with the revisions and whatever else I need to do to it to make it saleable.

All in all, I think I’m in a good place. I should finish HER LAST KILL this month, and then I can work on revisions and edits for that book and hopefully have it done, sent to editors, and uploaded way before it’s time for the May release.

It’s kind of cool… My mantra for the year has been me telling myself it’s okay to be slow and steady, that I don’t have to attack everything like I usually do. It’s frustrating when I realize that I won’t get this one thing done because I need to work on this other one thing, but the end result is usually that I am getting things done, as opposed to stressing about it and not getting them done.

It’s hard to change your mindset when you’re hard-wired to want to plow through things, but this taking things one at a time and working through it before moving on to the next? It’s working for me.

Just a quick reminder that I’m going to be on Twitter hanging out with other Readers ‘n Ritas authors today at 11:30 CST for the #FFbchat chat.

Check out the #FFbchat and visit with us today! Only a couple more days until RnR 2018!

I’m going to have ARCs of His Last Breath at my table this weekend too. I’m soooo excited! This weekend is going to be so much fun!

Can’t wait to see you guys there!

If you haven’t gotten your ticket yet, go check it out!

If you’ve followed me for any long length of time, you probably know I love NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). It’s a fun challenge with loads of people all over the world coming together to knock out fifty thousand words in a month. A month that has a holiday and might typically be busier than other months.

For some writers that’s business as usual. I’ve been averaging about 52,000 words a month for the last 3-4, so I know that I can do the words. The difference is that this month, I choose to focus on one book instead of writing on two or three different projects. This is where the challenge is for me. I’m stupid unfocused most of the time. I jump from project to project, and I never really manage to settle on one until I somehow miraculously get one into that part of the project, past the Swampy Middle, where I really zone in on a story.

I’ve been jumping from a Seekrit New Shiny to the second Reapers book a lot, and I’m not really getting much done on the Reapers book. I have time, but I really don’t like the last minute things, so Her Last Kill is going to be my NaNoWriMo project for the month. I had about 17,000 words on it, but after finishing His Last Breath, I realized I hated those words and they didn’t really fit in with the tone of the first book, sooooo…. I trashed them, or rather, I pulled them out of the main document and put them into my cut files, where they will sit until I think I can recycle some of them.

It used to be that I really hated throwing out words, but I’ve gotten to the point where I throw out so many that it’s nothing for me anymore. Plus, I reuse them a lot, so most it really doesn’t go to waste.

Anyway, my plan for the month is to focus completely on Her Last Kill and getting that story written. I’m also prepping for the release of His Last Breath in December (less than a month away!! AHH!) and for Readers ‘n Ritas next weekend. I got the paperbacks in for His Last Breath in yesterday and they are so awesome! I found some errors so I need to do some corrections but these will be ARCs for people that come to RnR. I don’t know what other kind of prizes and stuff I’m going to do for the event but I’ll figure it out over the weekend so I can do all the last minute shopping for it.

I also need to record a couple podcasts and get those ready to go. But writing first. I’ve got about 6800 words for the day, so I’m gonna try to go for another 2000. It’s only that high because I did reuse some old words. I’m going to try for 2000 words a day for November and see how it goes.

I’ll try to update here as I go along too. Not sure if I can do what I did for the Fast Draft thing, but we’ll see. Maybe a once a week thing might be good to try for. You guys were awesome with the encouragement while I was Fast Drafting, and I think that’s a big part of why I was able to finish His Last Breath when that book had given me fits for two years. So let’s keep that going, and if you’re participating in NaNo this year, I’d love to support you too!

But first, I’m ordering pizza. A girl’s gotta eat, after all…

It’s about two weeks to Readers n Ritas at this point, and I’m nowhere near ready for it. I haven’t even ordered books, so it looks like I’m paying for rush shipping. Yay. BTW, if you’re local, you can still buy tickets to RnR and come see me… Just sayin…

It’s not that I didn’t realize that it was coming up. I had to wait until I had His Last Breath formatted before I could order the paperbacks, after all. Now I have to wait until my next payday to order the books. You’d think at some point, I’d learn not to put things off until the last minute.

But I’m super excited to have a whole lotta fun at RnR this year. I missed it last year, and I kind of regretted it, though I didn’t have anything to promote since I didn’t release a book last year. And I’m just barely sneaking one in this year, LOL.

Another thing I need to do more often is buy more candy corn. Yeah, I know that’s a completely random thing to say, but it’s kind of along the lines of the subject for today. At least then I’ll have some nice snacks while I procrastinate the rest of my life. Or maybe some Reese’s cups. I’m not a huge peanut butter fan, but Reese’s cups have really grown on me lately.

Blah.

Anyway, really this post was just my underhanded way of reminding you guys that I’m going to be at Readers n Ritas this year, and I’d love to see anyone who can make it out! Especially since I have to decorate a table for the lunch, and I’d love to have people to sit with and give stuff to.

And now that I’ve reminded you all of RnR, I will go write on Her Last Kill, because… yeah. That needs writing and stuff.  Before my heroine tries to shank me for not paying her enough attention. Yikes!