Being horrified by the sight of gingerbread peeps in the candy aisle along with the candy canes and peppermint kisses. That's always a shocker that says, "Thank god the licorice black cat peeps are gone but DAMN".
Other than that, though.
Betwixt and between the holiday preparations and cleaning and shopping and stressing, the best little way to kick off a holiday season is with a fun, quick, 'escape the overload of cheerful psychosis' book to read. Especially if it's something you can read in one good sitting- long enough to get away for a bit, but not so long that the kids are able to actually pound the door down with their strident yet pitiful cries of "We're hungry! We're bored! The cat puked on the kitchen counter!"
And what better way to finish the year than with the start of a new series of books?
Introducing the introductory introduction to a new heroine- a little bolder than my usual character, a little wyrder and a lot more sexy. And the story line is a little more edgy and more readily points pointy fingers at the actual perpetrators of our societal collapse.
Spoiler alert- it ain't the fault of the 'gun-grabbing godless libtards'. I know. Shocking. Unless you're not deluded in the first place.
Anyhoo- hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Ward said he needed smelling salts, but I think he meant it in a good way.
"Wyrd Justice- Weekends in Dystopia/Book One- Hammered! Pounding it Home for Liberty"
"Butch lowered the Estwing, and turned around slowly- holding his breath as though afraid she’d be gone…just a figment of his imagination.
And yet, there she was- even more beautiful than her reflection. Butch cleared his throat, raised one eyebrow nonchalantly while his eyes played over her from top to bottom and back again…slowly and appreciatively.
Her hair wasn’t so much a color as an aurora of copper and bronze and gold; it moved on its own in undulating waves of sensuality. Brown eyes flecked with green nestled on either side of a seriously straight yet dainty nose and over full soft lips that were devoid of artificial color or moisture, yet pulsed with sexuality. Butch wanted those lips- wanted to feel them slowly exploring every inch of his body and his jeans were suddenly too tight for him.
She was outstandingly fit and muscular, yet soft and supple and just a few inches shorter than he was. Her kid leather vest laced just to the top of her lace camisole. Breasts rising and falling with her slow steady breathing showed only a dew of perspiration; just enough to intensify and carry her scent of leather, and sunshine, and Black Orchid to him where it wafted up into his sinuses and took root in his brain- where he’d never forget it.
Her jeans were cut low and there was just an inch of perfect flesh between the bottom of the vest and the top of the faded and form-fitting Levi’s.
Her feet were bare; her toenails polished blood red in direct contrast to her fingernails, which were as unadorned as her lips- on her ring finger of her right hand was a band of silver set with a single moonstone. She wore no other jewelry.
He was accustomed to being met with blushing breathlessness or offended surprise after his predatory inventories, and was taken slightly aback to lift his eyes and meet her unwavering and slightly amused gaze.
Their eyes locked for one earth-shattering second and then she was gone."
http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B00GYC6JXA/ref=mp_s_a_1_11?qid=1385582352&sr=8-11&pi=SL75
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